Castor and Pollux
by FaithinBones
Summary: Is Gibbs' father on NCIS related to Booth's grandfather on Bones? Are Booth and Gibbs related? Brennan is asked by NCIS for help with a murder victim. This collaboration brings our two Special Agents together allowing them to discover that family ties can be a burden and yet bring with it a sense of belonging. This story is a collaboration between FaithinBones and Penandra.
1. Chapter 1

Penandra and I have been exchanging emails about the actor that plays Gibb's father on NCIS and Booth's grandfather on Bones. Rather than them being the same person, Penandra posited that perhaps they are identical twins "Jackson" and "Hank". That left the question why they have different last names. I found that very intriguing. I hope you do too.

After numerous emails we decided to collaborate on a story involving this question. This is the story we came up with to answer that question. We plan to update this story every Friday.

Since fics seem to get lost in the crossover area, Penandra will be posting this story in the NCIS fandom and I will post it in the Bones fandom. Our stories will be nearly identical. We are both tweakers of stories. There may be a time when she tweaks a chapter before posting it and I won't or vice versa. None of the tweaks will be germane to the story line and most will not be visible. They will most likely involve misspelled words, etc. We don't expect you to read this story twice. We are aware that there are Bones fans and NCIS fans and they aren't always the same hence the two postings for each chapter.

We both really love reviews and would like to hear from you about our story. We hope you find this story very entertaining.

I don't own Bones or NCIS.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Booth was sitting in his office talking to Charlie when 'Hot Blooded' sounded from under a pile of reports on his desk. Balancing a pile of folders Booth found the phone and answered the call, "Booth".

"Booth, I'm going to have to stay later tonight. A body is being sent over from NCIS. Their Medical Examiner, Cam knows him, his name's Donald Mallard, he called and wants me to help him identify a body that was found at Naval Station Norfolk a couple of days ago. He's making arrangements to have the body sent to the Jeffersonian this afternoon. He and Special Agent Gibbs will be escorting the body and I expect them to arrive in about thirty minutes or so."

Feeling the hair rise on the back of his neck, Booth scowled. "Gibbs? Not Jethro Gibbs?"

Surprised, Brennan replied, "Yes. . . Yes, it is Jethro Gibbs. Do you know him?"

Sighing, Booth thumped his left fist against the top of his desk, "I've never met him; but, I know who he is. I'll be over in a little while."

"That's not necessary, Booth. If you could pick up Christine from Daycare, you can just head home. Hodgins and Cam are staying and I'll ask one of them to drive me home when I'm ready."

"Nah, that's okay. I'll pick up Christine; but, I'll bring her by the Lab. I'll ask Angela if she could watch her for awhile." Trying to keep the strain from his voice, he continued, "I want to meet this Jarhead Gibbs."

"Booth is this a military thing?"

Laughing, Booth replied, "No it's a family thing, Bones. Gibbs is a relative. I promise I'll explain tonight. I have to go. I'll see you in a while. I love you."

Ending his call, Booth immediately called Hank Booth.

Hearing his grandfather on the line, Booth cleared his throat, "Hey Pops, guess who's about to walk into the Jeffersonian to work with Bones."

"I'm fine, Seeley. Thanks for asking. Good to hear from you too." Hank responded. "Now that we have that out of the way, who's going to work with Temperance?"

Frowning, Booth apologized, " Sorry, Pops, I was a little distracted. Anyways, _Special _Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service is on the way to the Jeffersonian."

"Seeley, watch that temper of yours. I mean it. Leroy doesn't have anything to do with that business between Jackson and me. Your father should have never told you about it in the first place. I want it forgotten. It's done. We're done."

"I'm not going to cause any trouble Pops. I'm just letting you know that I'm finally going to meet the famous Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

"Seeley."

"Pops, don't worry about it. It's cool. I'm cool. I have to go. I'll talk to you later. Bones and I will bring Christine over to see you this weekend. We'll call on Saturday to set up a time. Ok?"

"Don't try to change the subject Shrimp. You behave yourself. I mean it." Hank warned.

"Love you Pops. Talk to you on Saturday," Booth responded and quickly ended the call.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Arriving at the Lab, Booth carried Christine over to Angela's office. Glancing up at the platform as he walked by, Booth saw that Brennan's company had already arrived. He assumed that the tall silver haired man standing near the top of the steps was Gibbs. Booth stopped and studied the man. Although the man wore civies, and the haircut was a bit shaggy for a former Marine, Booth recognized the military bearing.

Gibbs, feeling someone staring at him, turned to see a tall, dark haired man holding a baby in his arms. The cold look the man gave him caused him to wonder who he was.

Booth scowled, raised his eyebrows and, turned to walk down the hallway to Angela's office. Entering her office, Booth smiled, "Hey Angela, did Bones ask if you'd be able to watch Christine for a little while?"

Nodding her head, Angela stood up and walked across the room holding her hands out toward the baby. Pulling Christine into her arms, Angela walked over to the playpen she had set up in the corner of her office. "Yes, of course, it's fine." As she placed Christine in the playpen she looked back at Booth, "Bren seemed a little confused when she asked, but you go ahead, Christine and Michael can bond. I have a few things I need to take care of before I can go home for the day, anyway."

Smiling, Booth exclaimed, "Thanks, Angela! You're the best."

Nodding, Angela laughed, "Yeah, I know."

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Arriving at the steps to the platform, Booth slid his card through the reader and walked slowly up the steps. The silver-haired man had moved around to the other side of the platform and watched the newcomer as he came up onto the platform. Cam, Bones, and an elderly man with glasses stood looking down at what Booth assumed was the victim.

Ignoring Gibbs, Booth walked over to the exam table and asked, "That's the body?"

Looking up from the table, Cam replied, "That's what we've been told."

Brennan watching Cam pick up pieces and study them, remarked, "Dr. Mallard says the body was found in several bags behind the NEX."

Pursing his lips, Booth replied, "How can you tell it's a body? It looks like dog food to me."

Holding up a human eye, Brennan responded, "There are two of these."

Nodding his head, Booth replied, "Ok, yeah I see."

Hearing Gibbs laugh quietly, Booth ignored him and walked over to the railing on the opposite side of the platform from Gibbs and leaned against the railing. Staring at Gibbs with an expressionless face, Booth pulled his poker chip out of his pocket and started rubbing it between his thumb and index finger.

Curious, Gibbs walked over to where Booth was standing and asked, "And who are you?"

Ignoring Gibbs, Booth turned and stared at Brennan and Cam.

Daisy, standing next to Brennan decided that she'd answer the question. "That's Agent Seeley Booth. He's liaison between the FBI and the Jeffersonian."

Seeing Booth frowning, Daisy hunched her shoulders and turned back to look at the body bits.

Gibbs, staring at Booth, reached out his hand and introduced himself, "I'm NCIS. Special Agent Leroy Gibbs."

Ignoring the out-stretched hand and shrugging his shoulders, Booth pushed away from the railing and walked past Gibbs toward the stairs. Standing in front of the stairs, Booth stared at Brennan for a few minutes. "I'm going to Angela's office, Bones. If you need me for anything, I'll be there."

Puzzled, Gibbs watched Booth walk down the stairs and down the hallway. Ducky, having witnessed Booth's rudeness, walked over to where Gibbs was and asked, "Do you know him?'

Staring at the retreating Booth, Gibbs replied, "Maybe, I'm not sure."

With a slight smile on his face, Ducky folded his arms across his chest, "Well apparently he knows you."

Brennan, glancing towards Gibbs, remarked, "I think Booth is related to you."

Surprised, Ducky looked back at Gibbs, "Oh. That's interesting."

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A/N: For those of you who were wondering about the title of this story, Castor and Pollux are from Greek mythology. There are very good explanations on the internet as to who they are.

Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for reading our story. We really appreciate it.

I don't own Bones or NCIS.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Staring at the small pieces of remains lying on the table before him, Ducky continued with his briefing of Dr. Temperance Brennan and Cam Saroyan. "Of course we ran a toxicology screening. It came back negative for illicit drugs and poisons. The only drug our forensic technician Abby Sciuto found in the victim's remains was caffeine and there seemed to be a lot of that."

Finished with her initial examination of the body bits, Brennan rendered an opinion, "Once the flesh has been removed from the bones, I believe I should be able to reconstruct the skeleton. The pieces are small; but, not so small that I can't put them back together. I know you told me that you ran DNA and were unsuccessful; but, I believe that if I am able to reconstruct the skull, Angela should be able to do a facial reconstruction. If I am able to reconstruct the rest of the bones we may be able to determine cause of death."

Removing her latex gloves, Brennan glanced at Daisy and then back at Ducky, "Ms. Wick will remove the flesh and I should be able to start my reconstruction tomorrow. I will contact you when we've determined the identity of the victim."

Smiling, Ducky remarked, "You seem very confident that you'll be able to reconstruct the bones, Dr. Brennan."

Nodding her head, Brennan replied, "Yes, I am. I'm the best anthropologist in the country. It's what I do. It's what we do."

Gibbs standing over near the staircase, smiled at Dr. Brennan's conviction and apparent lack of modesty. He liked competent people and from the way she was treated by her co-workers and the information he'd received from Director Vance before they came over, it was obvious that Dr. Temperance Brennan was very competent indeed.

Turning to Cam, Brennan remarked, "Booth will want to be kept apprised of our findings."

Nodding her head, Cam glanced at Gibbs and then back at Brennan, "I'll make sure he's CCd when I send out emails."

Clearing his throat, Gibbs stepped closer to the exam table, "This victim was found at Naval Station Norfolk. This investigation is a matter for NCIS, not the FBI."

Shrugging her shoulders, Brennan replied, "Booth is my partner. If I am involved in this case then so is he. If that's a problem for you then I will have to decline my services. It's up to you."

Nodding, Gibbs smiled and met her direct gaze, "Fair enough. This is still a NCIS case; but, if you think Agent Booth would like to be involved in the investigation then I won't object. It won't be the first time we've worked with the FBI."

Nodding her head, Brennan walked across the platform and down the stair case. Gibbs watched as she walked down the hallway and into the office Agent Booth had entered earlier. Turning to Cam, Gibbs smiled, "I noticed that Agent Booth had a child in his arms earlier when he first entered. Are Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan married?"

Smiling, Cam replied, "They live together."

Nodding his head, Gibbs turned to Ducky, "Ready to go?"

Picking up his jacket and hat from the chair where he had placed them, Ducky gestured toward the stairs, "After you, Jethro. After you."

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Walking into Angela's office, Brennan found Booth sitting on the couch, holding Christine and talking to Angela.

Booth stood up as Brennan entered the room, "So, are you ready to go?"

Smiling, Brennan replied, "Let me go to my office to get my purse and coat and I'll be ready."

Turning to Angela, Booth smiled, "Thanks for keeping me company Angela."

Following Brennan out of the room, Booth stopped and watched Gibbs and Ducky as they walked toward the exit.

Feeling eyes on him, Gibbs turned to see the clearly hostile agent watching him, he smiled and gave a mock salute and kept walking. Booth squinted his eyes and watched the two men as they exited through the main entrance. Brennan walked out of her office and observed the look on Booth's face.

"Is there something wrong Booth?"

Turning to look at her, Booth smiled and shook his head, "No. Nothing's wrong."

"Are you going to tell me how you're related to Agent Gibbs?

Flicking his eyes toward the empty entranceway, Booth replied, "Yeah, let's wait until we get home."

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Christine was in bed and Booth and Brennan were relaxing on the couch in the living room.

Staring at the darkened TV on the wall, Booth grimaced, "Agent Gibbs is my father's first cousin. You've never met him; but, Pops has a twin brother named Jackson Gibbs. It's kind of complicated. Pops and Jackson's parents had only been married for a few months when they got divorced. Even though my great-grandmother was pregnant, apparently they had discovered pretty quickly that they really couldn't stand each other; so, they just divorced. It was really very unusual for the times. When the pregnancy resulted in twins, Jackson stayed with great-grandma, Mona Gibbs and Pops went with their father, Joseph Hank Booth. Mona moved back to Stillwell, Pennsylvania to be near her family and Joseph Booth stayed in Philadelphia close to his family. Even though it was the late 1920's and they'd found they couldn't be married to each other, they seemed to be rather progressive in the divorce. Pops told me that Mona and Joseph wanted to make sure that their sons stayed in touch with each other; so, Jackson and Hank would visit each other during the summer and share some holidays. They got along fairly well when they were kids. Pops said it was fun to introduce Jackson Gibbs as his brother and see the confusion on people's faces. He said the fun part was not explaining." Booth laughed and shook his head.

Brennan smiled back at his amused response.

Booth continued, "Pops said he was sure that it created some scandalous stories that went around about them; but, Pops and Jackson didn't care. They liked to upset the apple cart."

Puzzled, Brennan interrupted Booth narrative. "Why would they upset an apple cart?"

Laughing, Booth placed his right arm around Brennan's shoulders, "It's a saying. It means they liked to defy convention."

Smiling, Brennan asked, "Why didn't you just say that?"

Shaking his head, Booth continued, "Ok . . . When Pops and Jackson were sixteen years old they went on a fishing trip with their Dad. While they were out on the boat, Joseph let Jackson drive the boat. I'm not really clear on what exactly happened, but from what I can gather from Pops, Jackson ran over an underwater obstruction and it holed the boat. Pops was knocked unconscious and when he woke up he found he was in the water with a life vest on and his head being held above the water by Jackson. Their father was missing. Jackson told Pops that their father had drowned. There were only two life vests in the boat and their father had grabbed the vests before the boat sank. He insisted that Jackson put on one and then they put the other one on Pops. Joseph treaded water for hours; but, I guess he became exhausted and after awhile he couldn't do it anymore. Jackson had fallen asleep holding Pops and he didn't notice their father was missing until it was too late. Pops told me that he and Jackson were rescued by a passing fisherman. Pops ended up in the hospital with hypothermia and a broken leg and Jackson was hospitalized for hypothermia."

Sighing, Booth hugged Brennan, "Pops said he refused to talk to Jackson after that. He blamed Jackson for their father's death. As far as Pops was concerned, Jackson killed their father. Pops refused to go live with his mother; so, his uncle Henry took him in."

"Is that why you don't like Agent Gibbs?"

Shaking his head, Booth replied, "Nope. I don't like Gibbs because he's an asshole. . . Hey, it's getting late. Let's go to bed. If you have to put that human jigsaw puzzle back together you're going to need your rest."

Frowning, Brennan asked, "Won't you tell me why you dislike Gibbs?"

Shaking his head, Booth replied, "Maybe someday; but, I don't want to talk about it right now. Ok?"

Nodding her head, Brennan replied, "You know you can tell me anything."

Sighing, Booth leaned over and kissed her, "Yeah, I know. It's just . . . I don't want to talk about it right now . . . maybe later."

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Driving back to NCIS headquarters to pick up Ducky's car, Gibbs told Ducky about the boating accident. "What was weird was the fact that even though Hank Booth blamed my Dad for their father's death, when the Coast Guard interviewed him about the accident, Hank swore that their father was driving the boat and not my Dad. Dad tried to take the blame; but, Hank swore that Jackson was just feeling guilty that there were only two life vests on the boat and that their father drowned. The Coast Guard believed Hank and they closed the case."

Shaking his head, Ducky remarked, "That's strange. Hank blamed your father for their father's death and yet he lied to the Coast Guard to protect his brother."

Shrugging his shoulders, Gibbs responded, "People do unexpected things."

"Why does Agent Booth hate you? It's patently obvious that he can't stand the sight of you."

Coming to a stop at a red light, Gibbs glanced at Ducky, "I tried to mend fences between Dad and Hank after I entered the Marines. I was tired of the crap; so, I thought maybe I could fix it. When Hank Booth refused to see me, I tracked down his son, Joseph. I was stationed at Naval Station Philadelphia for awhile; so, I took the opportunity to find him while I was there."

Seeing the light change to green, Gibbs continued their trip, "That guy turned out to be a real piece of work. He'd been a pilot in the Air Force and he was shot down over Vietnam. He was hurt so badly that his career as a pilot was over. When I met him he was working at his uncle's barber shop in Philadelphia. I visited with him for a few weeks and we seemed to get along pretty good; but, the guy was a drunk and it wasn't too long before I found out that he was a wife beater. It pissed me off. One day I was over at his house and he was drunk as hell. His wife did something and I really don't know what it was; but, he reached out and slapped her hard . . . hard enough to draw blood. I lost it and I beat the shit out of him. I told him that if he ever laid a hand on her or their sons again I'd kill his sorry ass."

Flicking his eyes at Ducky, Gibbs finished his story, "I was transferred over seas a few months later; so, I couldn't keep an eye on him. Maybe his son blames me for the continued abuse, I don't know."

"Ah, the son is Agent Booth?"

Sighing, Gibbs grimaced, "Yep."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

So reviews are greatly appreciated. Any good? Believable? Let us know. Thanks.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you for your interest in this story. We appreciate all of your reviews in both fandoms. It's how we can tell that you're reading this story.

We definitely don't own Bones or NCIS. We thought HH might make us minor partners in his little Bones kingdom; but, alas, that wasn't to be. Our Christmas stockings were empty this year. Oh well, ever the optimists, we can hope for next year.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo 

Booth was sitting in his office, going over some reports for Deputy Director Cullen, when Senior Agent Tobias Fornell knocked on the doorframe. Sticking his head in the doorway Fornell raised an eyebrow and asked, "Booth, you have a minute?"

Gesturing for the agent to enter, Booth regarded Fornell as he made himself comfortable on the chair across from the desk. Booth put his pen down, crossed his arms and looked inquisitively at the other agent.

"What can I do for you, Fornell?"

Smiling, Fornell replied, "A little Navy birdie told me that you're sharing a case with NCIS. Since I'm usually the liaison between NCIS and the FBI, I thought I'd give you the chance to hand the case over to me."

Shaking his head, Booth smiled, "No thanks. I guess their Director, Vance is it?" At Fornell's nod, Booth continued, "called Dr. Saroyan over at the Jeffersonian. They asked for Bones' help with a human jigsaw puzzle that was found down at Norfolk. They were able to extract DNA but there wasn't any match in the databases. They're hoping that my squints can determine identity. Since she's my partner I'll be handling the case. Although I do appreciate your offer."

Nodding his head, Fornell crossed his legs and placed his clasped hands on top of his knees, "You do know that NCIS can be, shall we say, a bit of a challenge to work with, don't you? Agent Gibbs can be very controlling when it comes to his cases. He's not known for playing well with others."

Frowning, Booth met Fornell's unwavering gaze, "I know Gibbs' reputation. It doesn't bother me. If he wants Bones' cooperation then he'll have to play nice with me. He won't have a lot of choice."

Shaking his head, Fornell responded, "Well, if you change your mind let me know. I have a couple of cases I'm working on; but, nothing very urgent."

Nodding his head, Booth asked, "What do think of Gibbs, personally?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Fornell replied, "He's a pretty stand up guy. He's fairly honest and he's a hell of a detective. You'll think he's a tough son-of-a-bitch when you meet him; but, he believes in justice and he always tries to give closure to the families of the victims. He hates for the bad guy to escape justice; so, he can be pretty pushy about the job."

Smiling grimly, Booth looked down at his desk and then back at Fornell, "Oh, I've met the famous Gibbs. I just wanted your take on the guy that's all."

Curious, Fornell asked, "You've met him? Where?"

Fingers entwined, Booth placed his hands on top of his desk and leaned forward, "He's my father's cousin."

Caught off guard, Fornell exclaimed, "No shit? I hope that doesn't mean you and I are related!"

Booth looked at Fornell in surprise, "What's that supposed to mean? You're related to Gibbs too?"

Laughing, Fornell responded, "Not really. He used to be my husband-in-law."

Looking questionably at Fornell, Booth raised an eyebrow, "Come again?"

Fornell barked out a laugh and then explained, "Booth! Not like that. My second ex-wife is Gibbs' second ex-wife. When Diane introduced us, she called him my husband-in-law and it just kind of stuck."

Laughing, Booth replied, "You have my sympathy, Fornell. You have my sympathy!"

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo had never been to the Jeffersonian before; but, he'd heard of the reputation of the Medico-Legal Lab and was intrigued. Walking into the Lab after picking up a visitor's badge at security, DiNozzo looked around for Dr. Brennan's office using the general directions Gibbs had given him. Walking up to the doorway of her office, DiNozzo knocked on the doorframe of her office and smiled appreciatively at the beautiful woman inside.

Brennan looked up from the intern's paper she was grading. "Yes?"

Entering the room, DiNozzo smiled, "Dr. Temperance Brennan? I'm NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Agent Gibbs asked me to bring these reports by and see how it's going with our John Doe."

Brennan reached over and logged off her computer, leaned back in her chair and responded, "My intern, Ms. Wick is cleaning the bones of their flesh. I expect that process to be completed by this afternoon. Once that's finished I will be able to start my work."

Nodding his head and taking in the shelves behind her desk and the artifacts against the back wall, he remarked, "You have a very interesting office, Dr. Brennan."

Waiting, Brennan watched DiNozzo's eyes flick back towards her.

DiNozzo stepped closer to her desk and placed the envelope on top of her desk. "So, since we're waiting, would you like to go to lunch with me? I know a nice little bar not too far from here that serves great wine and food."

Smiling, Brennan stood up and walked towards the door. DiNozzo, a little surprised that the line had worked on her smiled only to hear a voice behind him, "Sorry Romeo, Bones is going to lunch with me."

DiNozzo turned and smiled at the man getting up from the couch and moving towards the coat rack in the corner of the room. Taking a jacket from the rack, Booth moved to stand behind Brennan and held her jacket as she shrugged into it.

"Oh yeah?" DiNozzo replied. "That's too bad. Their wine is really very good."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth remarked, "We don't drink wine during the day. The FBI frowns on drunken agents."

Laughing, DiNozzo replied, "NCIS doesn't have a sense of humor either." He reached out his hand to the man in front of him, "I'm Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. I was just dropping off some reports for Dr. Brennan."

Shaking the proffered hand, Booth introduced himself, "Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI." Looking questioningly at Brennan and seeing her brief nod, Booth looked back at DiNozzo, "I'll tell you what, you give me the name of that bar and you can go to lunch with Bones and me, my treat."

Puzzled at the offer, DiNozzo responded, "Ok. . . . why do you want to go to lunch with me?"

Smiling, Booth answered, "Bones and I are going to be working with you on this case and I don't think it would hurt to get to know who we're working with."

Shrugging his shoulders, DiNozzo remarked, "Alright, you pay for lunch and I'll tell you the name of the bar."

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Entering the Founding Fathers, DiNozzo laughed and turned towards Booth. "I love irony."

Puzzled, Booth asked, "What do you mean?"

Pointing at the bar, DiNozzo replied, "This is the bar that serves the great wine and food."

Frowning, Booth glanced at Brennan and then back at DiNozzo, "I don't ever remember seeing you here."

Shrugging his shoulders, DiNozzo responded, "It has a reputation as an FBI bar; so, I only come here when I have a date with someone special."

"So you wanted to bring Bones here for lunch because you think she's special?" Booth peered more closely at DiNozzo.

Seeing a mine field spreading out before him, DiNozzo remarked, "Sorry, I didn't realize that she was taken."

Annoyed at the turn of the conversation, Brennan remarked, "I am not taken. I am Booth's partner and his mate, not his property."

Realizing that he was walking from the mine field towards a yawning chasm, DiNozzo laughed, shrugged his shoulders and put his hands up in surrender, "Ok I didn't mean to offend anyone. I saw a beautiful woman and I tried to take her out to lunch. I didn't realize that she had a . . . a mate; so, like I said, no offense intended." He looked from Booth to Brennan and then back to Booth again.

"None taken, Agent DiNozzo. Bones is a very beautiful woman." Booth smiled towards Bones and pointed towards an empty table.

Shaking her head, Brennan walked away from the two Alpha males and over to the table. Sitting down, Brennan stared at Booth.

Booth, getting the message, laughed and walked over to the table to sit next to Brennan. He leaned over and kissed Brennan on the cheek, as he pulled back, he whispered just low enough for her to hear, "I love you Bones." Brennan turned and tried to keep a stern look on her face then looked up as a server approached the table with menus.

DiNozzo resigned to his fate, sat down across from the committed couple and as he reached for the outstretched menu, asked, "Does this bar serve Humble Pie?"

Laughing, Booth reached for a menu and handed it to DiNozzo.

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_We know that not everyone that reads also leaves reviews, and that for those reading on smartphones, eReaders, and tablets, it's a little more challenging to leave a review. That being said, we appreciate all of your reviews in each of the fandoms. Reviews are how we know that you're reading (and enjoying) this story and it encourages us to work on the next chapter._

_Chapter 4 next Friday . . . . until then, we hope y'all stay safe and sane through the upcoming New Year's holiday._


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for taking the time out to read our story. We appreciate it very much. The reviews have been great and we really appreciate the time you take to tell us what you think of our story.

We definitely don't own Bones or NCIS.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Once the bones had been cleaned, Brennan sorted them as she laid them out on one of the exam tables. She moved the smaller bones over to a second table while Daisy was given the job of sorting the bigger pieces of bones.

"Ms. Wick, I'll take all of the bones that appear to be from the skull and I'll work on gluing that back together while you position and examine the larger bone fragments that we were able to retrieve."

"Ok, Dr. Brennan," Daisy replied. "You're thinking that if you can get enough of the skull assembled, maybe Angela can do a facial reconstruction, isn't that right?"

"Absolutely, Ms. Wick."

"Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo said that they were going to work on the police side of the investigation while we're working on the bones," Brennan explained. "Their Dr. Mallard and forensic specialist Ms Scuitto might be by latter tomorrow to share the information they've been able to gather so far. I'll want to meet with Dr. Mallard and have Ms. Scuitto meet with Dr. Hodgins."

"But isn't that what Agent Booth usually does, Dr. Brennan? NCIS isn't taking over the investigation are they? I would imagine Agent Booth wouldn't be very pleased with that. Does he even know about this Dr. Brennan? I wouldn't want to be around when he finds out, he can be very territorial. . ." Daisy let the rest of the sentence drop when she saw the look on her mentor's face.

"Ms. Wick, I hardly think that is any of your concern. Dr. Saroyan is coordinating everything with Director Vance of NCIS and Booth is involved at all levels of the investigation. Apparently, another NCIS agent, an Agent McGee, was able to track down some security video from outside the Navy Exchange." Dr. Brennan responded. "Our job is to get this skull put together and to sort the bones to see what we have. If that is too much for you to handle, I'm sure that there is another intern who would be happy to assist me . . . "

"Oh no, Dr. Brennan I'm sorry. I just didn't want Agent Booth to be upset about being cut out of the investigation." Daisy responded. "I saw how he was looking at Agent Gibbs and it seemed like they might already know . . ."

"Ms. Wick! If you do not get to work on the bones I will call in another intern. Will that be necessary?"

"No, Dr. Brennan. I'm working on the bones now," Daisy replied contritely.

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"DiNozzo, I want you and Ziva to interview everyone that worked at the NEX as well as the manager;" Gibb directed. "See if anyone can recall seeing anyone carrying two garbage bags and putting them next to the dumpster. The manager said that all employees are responsible for cleaning the trash from their department and everything goes into the dumpster before the close of the day."

"Yes, Boss," DiNozzo responded.

"We'll verify that the employees are following store procedure, Gibbs," Ziva David responded. "If they are following those procedures, someone might have noticed someone leave the bags next to the dumpster."

"I'm going over the film from the story security cameras now, Boss, " Agent Tim McGee informed Gibbs. "The store closes at 18:00 on Mondays, they're closed on Tuesdays, open 'til 21:00 on Wednesday and Thursdays. . ." seeing the look on Gibbs face, McGee quickly went on, "Right Boss, get to the point. Okay. So, with the hours they're closed that would give whomever needed it plenty of time to dump the bags when the store was closed and make sure that no one was around to witness anything."

"Ya think, McGee?" Gibbs scowled at the agent and took a swig of his coffee. "What do you have on the security camera? Anything?"

"Working on it, Boss. I'm working on it right now," McGee replied.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Standing next to the dumpster, DiNozzo took a stick he'd found on the edge of the property and poked it in the dumpster. Moving items around, he noticed a box filled with bags of chips past their 'sell date'. Next to the chips he spotted a couple of boxes of blouses and some packages of t-shirts. From where he stood, he couldn't tell what might be wrong with the items.

Turning to Ziva, DiNozzo smiled, "The manager said that the employees have to dump their trash in to the dumpster at the end of every shift. The bags the victim were found in were sitting next to the dumpster."

Pointing at the bag that was resting at Ziva's feet, he continued, "If the employees aren't leaving the bags outside of the dumpster then some one else must be. I have an idea."

Standing up from where she'd been inspecting the errant garbage bag, Ziva turned to DiNozzo, "That the employees are lying?"

Smiling, DiNozzo replied, "No, Agent David, there's some interesting stuff in this dumpster. I'm thinking that we should come back at night after the NEX is closed and see if any dumpster divers show up."

"Dumpster divers?"

"Yeah, stores throw out stuff that's past it's 'sales date' like food; but, also stuff that's usually still good. There are people who like to root around in dumpsters and pick up stuff that's still useful. They're called dumpster divers."

Grimacing, Ziva replied, "It seems an odd thing to do. If it's in the dumpster then I don't think that I would want it."

Shrugging his shoulders, DiNozzo frowned, "Yeah, neither would I; but, there are a lot of people who like free stuff like clothing and stuff and some of it's still good. There's a whole subculture in major cities that dumpster dive behind restaurants and grocery stores for food ."

Ziva made a face and brushed her hands against her knees to dust off the dirt. "I suppose we could come back tonight, park at the end of the lot and see if anyone turns up. They may have seen someone dropping off the bags with the victim in them."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Entering the coffee shop, Gibbs spotted Tobias Fornell sitting at a table towards the back. Gibbs stopped at the counter to order a coffee and walked back to Tobias' table and sat down across from his friend.

Irritated, Fornell reminded Gibbs, "I told you I could come by your office."

"I needed a coffee and I need to pick up a Caff-Pow for Abby." Making a face and shrugging his shoulders, Gibbs exclaimed, "I don't know how she drinks that stuff! What's up?"

Taking a sip of his coffee, Fornell placed his cup on the table in front of him, "I tried to get Booth to hand the FBI side of the case over to me; but, he refused. I may be liaison between your agency and mine; but, in this case it doesn't matter. Apparently, Dr. Temperance Brennan only works with her partner. The FBI likes to keep her happy; so, if she says Booth is involved in your case then there isn't anything I can do about it."

Curious, Gibbs responded, "You could have told me that over the phone."

Staring at Gibbs, Fornell moved his cup a little, back and forth, "Booth tells me you and his father are cousins."

"His father passed away a year ago; but, that's right." Gibbs replied. "So?"

"I just think it's kind of odd that you didn't mention that and that you don't want to work with him."

Smiling, Gibbs took a sip of his coffee, "I don't want to work with any FBI agents on this case. It's not FBI business."

Shrugging his shoulders, Fornell responded, "The minute you dragged Dr. Brennan into it, it became FBI business. Keep that in mind if you ever need her again. If you drag her into anything Booth is along for the ride. That's the way it is."

Sighing, Gibbs stood up, "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind."

Watching Gibbs leave, Fornell called out, "Booth has a hard ass reputation."

Responding while walking towards the entrance, Gibbs smiled, "So do I."

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Walking into the Lab, Booth noticed Brennan standing near one of the tables on the platform. As he passed by Angela's office, Booth spotted a new painting just inside the doorway. Stopping to take it in, Booth cocked his head to the side, shook his head and continued to the platform.

Booth slid his card through the card reader and walked up the steps, two at a time.

"Hey Bones, you aren't going to work all night are you? I thought we could go pick up Christine from Day Care and drive over to see if Pops wants to go out to dinner tonight."

Looking up from the bones she held in her hand, Brennan remarked, "I think I'd like to work on this skull for awhile, Booth. I am having fairly good success and I might be able to finish it tonight allowing Angela to start on the facial reconstruction in the morning."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth replied, "Well, if that's what you want to do. I tell you what, I'll go get Christine and she and I will go visit Pops for awhile . We'll stop by on the way home to pick you up."

Nodding her head, Brennan looked back down at the two pieces in her hand and responded, "That would be acceptable."

Smiling, Booth realized that she had already dismissed him from her mind. Leaning over he kissed her on the cheek and walked away.

Brennan, feeling the kiss on her cheek, smiled.

ooooooooooooooooo

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	5. Chapter 5

Penny and I would like to thank you for reading and reviewing our story. We appreciate the support and the reviews have been great.

We don't own Bones or NCIS. I'm sure you're shocked.

Oooooooooooooooooo

Sitting in Hank's room, Booth held Christine as his grandfather set up the dominoes. "So," Hank's face softened as he watched his grandson and great granddaughter, "Are you going to tell me about your meeting with Jethro?"

Booth got Christine settled in the middle of the bed. Moving pillows from the head of the bed and positioning them in a square around his daughter he shrugged his shoulders.

"I saw him at the Lab; but, I didn't talk to him. I didn't have anything to say and he didn't seem to either." Satisfied that Christine was adequately protected, he kissed the top of her head, walked over to the sitting area and sat down in the chair facing his grandfather with the dominoes table between them.

Shaking his head, Hank stared at his grandson, "Shrimp, I've told you before that this feud is between me and Jackson. It has nothing to do with you or Jethro. Neither of you have any reason to be involved. If this is out of some kind of misplaced loyalty, there really is no reason for you to snub Jethro."

Sighing, Booth stared at his sleeping daughter, "I have my reasons Pops and they don't have anything to do with the thing between you and your brother."

Reaching across the table and touching Booth's hand, Hank asked, "Tell me what you have against Jethro Gibbs. I want to know."

Distracting himself with the dominoes bone yard, Booth shook his head and replied, "I'd rather not tell you, Pops."

Tapping his index finger against the table, Hank insisted, "No secrets, Shrimp, I mean it. I am sick of family secrets. For years, you and Jared kept secret what your father was doing to you and it almost killed you and your mother. I told you then and I am telling you now, no more secrets between us. Now tell me why you don't like Jethro. I want to know."

Exhaling deeply, Booth leaned back in his chair, "Okay, Pops. You remember that Jethro looked up Dad when I was about eight ? I think he was stationed somewhere in the Philadelphia area. He came over to the house a few times at night when Jared and I were already in bed; so, I never met him."

Nodding his head, Hank replied, "Yes, I knew about Jethro looking up Joseph. I had asked Joseph to give Jethro a chance. I begged him to put the family feud aside and Joseph said he'd try. I never wanted my feud with Jackson to touch the rest of the family. That was just between my brother and me."

Crossing his arms across his chest and keeping his eyes focused on his sleeping daughter, Booth continued, "While Jethro was coming around, Dad sobered up and he stopped . . . he stopped hitting me and Mom and he wasn't so angry. It was kind of like a miracle. Dad wasn't drinking and Mom was so happy. God she was so damned happy." Booth's face clouded over.

Realizing that his grandfather was watching him, Booth pulled himself up from his chair. Looking at Hank's sad face, he continued, "That was probably the happiest six months of my childhood, Pops. We were almost like a normal family. . . Then one day, Dad came home drunk. Not just drunk, but angry drunk. He came charging into the house and started hitting Mom. When I tried to stop him, he started in on me. Then Mom tried to protect me and he started in on her again. Mom was so scared we both were. She kept asking why. . . . All she wanted to know Pops was why."

Reliving that awful moment in time, Booth swallowed hard, "Do you know what Dad said? He said that Jethro was sick and tired of having losers for family. He said that Jethro had requested a transfer and he got it and that he couldn't stand to be around such losers . . . We never heard from him again. Dad said that . . . Dad said that Jethro called him and told him that we were all useless and he never wanted to see or hear from us again."

Booth's voice broke as he looked at his grandfather. "He was the only family we had besides you and he didn't want to have anything to do with us. It just drove Dad over the edge and he never came back."

Shaking his head, Hank responded, "Your father told you that Jethro requested a transfer to get away from his family?"

Nodding his head, Booth replied, "Yeah. Dad went back to drinking and he was worse than before Jethro showed up. He was a hell of a lot worse."

Sitting forward, Hank sighed, "Seeley, you're a detective. Let me ask you a question. Would you trust the word of a drunken abuser about anything if that person was involved in one of your crimes? Would you consider the word of someone like that to be trustworthy?"

Frowning, Booth blinked and stared at this grandfather, "Uh . . . No. Not really."

"Then why are you taking the words your father told you as gospel? Seeley, you only have your father's word about why Jethro stopped coming around. Have you ever bothered to find out Jethro's side of the story?"

Embarrassed, Booth shook his head, "No, I haven't. I've never questioned it at all."

Reaching over and placing his hand on Booth's knee, Hank asked, "Isn't it about time you found out the truth? Besides me and Jared, Jethro and Jackson are the only family you have left in this world, well besides Temperance and Christine; but, you know what I mean. I'm old and so is Jackson. We're not going to be around much longer. I don't have anything to do with Jackson; but, that's my feud and not yours. If you're going to throw away the only family you have left at least find out if your doing it for the right reasons." Hank looked fondly at his oldest grandson, "Let's face it, Shrimp, you're basing your anger and your hate on the words of a drunken angry man. Does that make sense to you? It isn't right and you know it."

Nodding his head, Booth reached down and patted Hank's hand, "Yeah, maybe you're right. I'll think about it, Pops."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooo

Taking a big bite out of a slice of pizza, DiNozzo glanced over at the profile of his partner. "Are you sure you don't want any? It's pretty good."

Frowning, Ziva replied, "No thank you. I do not like pizza with everything on it."

Nodding, DiNozzo reached behind him and pulled a second pizza box from the back seat. Passing it over to her, he asked, "Who said anything about pizza with everything on it?"

Puzzled, Ziva opened the lid to find a mushroom pizza. Surprised, she lifted a slice from the box, "Why didn't you tell me you had a mushroom pizza as well as that monstrosity that you are eating?"

Laughing, DiNozzo replied, "You didn't ask."

Shaking her head, Ziva bit off a small piece of pizza as she watched the dumpster. "Are you sure that people really dive into dumpsters? It seems made up to me."

Smiling, DiNozzo continued to chew his bite of pizza. Pointing to the two young men approaching the dumpster, he placed his half eaten slice back in the box, "Watch, you'll see."

Curious, Ziva and DiNozzo watched one of the young men leap up and pull himself into the dumpster. Soon they saw bags sailing out of the dumpster landing next to the young man standing outside of the dumpster.

Opening the door of his car, DiNozzo smiled, "That, Ziva David, is dumpster diving."

Shrugging her shoulders, Ziva placed her pizza box on the back seat and opened her door. Walking beside DiNozzo, she watched the young man outside the dumpster squat down and open one of the bags resting at his feet apparently oblivious to the approach of the two agents.

Coming up behind the inquisitive young man, DiNozzo called out, "NCIS, you two are in deep kimchi."

Startled, the young man squatting near them jumped up, "Hey, man. We aren't doing anything wrong. This is all trash. We're just recycling."

Shaking her head, Ziva called out, "You in the dumpster, get out of there right now."

Popping up and looking down at them, the second young man replied, "Oh, come on."

Pointing towards the ground at his feet, DiNozzo replied, "Get your ass out of there right now. We're not playing around."

Sighing, the second young man pulled himself over and out of the dumpster.

Pointing at each of them, "Ok, names." She demanded.

Staring at each other, the larger of the two responded. "I'm Tommy Williams and this is my brother, Terry. We aren't doing anything wrong. You should see the stuff they throw away in this dumpster. Besides, when we're done we throw all of the bags back into the dumpster. We try to be neat about what we do."

Shaking his head, DiNozzo responded, "Except the other day, eh? You two left two bags outside the dumpster and called in a tip about what you found."

Curious, Terry asked, "How do you know we called in the tip about the body? It could have been anyone."

Laughing, DiNozzo replied, "We're NCIS, we have our ways."

Ziva shook her head as she looked between the two boys. "If we didn't know before, we know now."

Sheepishly nodding his head, Terry replied, "Well . . . Yeah, It was us."

"So? About the bags you left outside the dumpster?" DiNozzo repeated.

Shrugging his shoulder, Tommy replied, "Yeah, well, we opened those bags and it looked like it was full of old meat. We put them off to the side while we went through other stuff in the dumpster. We were just going to throw them back inside, but when we grabbed them to throw them back in Terry saw the eyeball. We both freaked when we saw that. Truth be told, I barely made it to the grass before I threw up. I mean wow, we'd never seen anything like that. Never."

Nodding his head, Terry continued, "Yeah. I mean it looked like a human eye ball. It was big like you see on TV, you know? We couldn't just throw those bags back into the dumpster. It might have been a person."

Staring at the indignant boys, Ziva asked, "Did you see anyone before you found the bags? Were there any vehicles in the parking lot?"

Shaking their heads, Tommy and Terry replied simultaneously, "No ma'am."

Looking at his brother, then back at the two agents, Tommy answered, "We were the only ones here. If we see anyone or if we see vehicles in the parking lot we usually skip that dumpster for the night. It's one of our rules."

Curious, Ziva asked, "Why do you climb into dumpsters to take things out of them? The things in the dumpsters are trash."

Shaking their heads, the brothers protested and Terry replied, "Have you seen what they throw away? You'd be shocked what we find in dumpsters!"

Disgusted, Terry continued, "It's a shame. We find clothes in this one all of the time. Clothes that are perfectly fine. That's why we dive here. Whenever we find clothes we take them over to the homeless shelter on Mission Street. There are people that can use that stuff and the stores just throw it away. It's disgusting. We recycle. We help the needy and it doesn't hurt anyone. The store manager should be ashamed of himself."

Hopefully optimistic, Tommy asked, "Can we go now?"

Shrugging his shoulders, DiNozzo handed Terry his notebook, "Write down your names, your home address and your phone number and then you can go."

Grabbing the notebook, Terry wrote quickly. "We didn't do anything wrong, man."

Pointing towards the end of the parking lot, DiNozzo replied, "Go home."

Smiling, Terry returned the notebook, "Thanks man." Gulping, he looked over at Ziva, "Ma'am. Thank you."

Nodding his head, Tommy echoed his brother, "Yeah, thanks."

Shaking his head, DiNozzo watched Tommy and Terry run away from them. "Kids are so weird these days. What happened to going to the movies and playing video games?"

Laughing, Ziva asked, "Feeling old Tony?"

Indignant, DiNozzo answered, "Hell no. I just don't understand kids that's all. This younger generation! They act like pod people. I don't understand pod people."

Shaking her head, Ziva stared at DiNozzo, "And I don't understand you. What are pod people?"

Laughing, DiNozzo replied in disbelief, "Invasion of the Body Snatchers? Come on, it's a classic. 1956. Staring Kevin McCarthy and Dana Wynter?"

Sighing, DiNozzo muttered, "Why do I even bother?"

Smiling, Ziva replied, "I often wonder about that myself, Tony."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oo

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	6. Chapter 6

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Ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Angela walked into her office to find a skull resting on a tray on her desk. Finishing her latte she tossed the cup into the recycle bin and started on the facial reconstruction she knew Brennan wanted. Looking closely at the reassembled skull, she was once again astounded at the size of the pieces and Brennan's ability to take a pile of small bits of bones and actually turn them into a skull or a complete skeleton.

Preoccupied with the reconstruction, voices outside of her office made their way into her consciousness. Looking up, she smiled as her husband, Jack Hodgins, entered with a young woman dressed in Goth with her hair pulled into pigtails.

"Angela, this is Abby Sciuto. She's a forensic specialist at the Naval Criminal Investigative Service headquarters. She and Doctor Mallard have dropped by to give us the latest on what they've been able to figure out about our John Doe. I told Abby all about you." Jack's blue eyes twinkled at this wife as he made the introduction.

Angela stood up and extended her hand as the other woman moved towards her. "I hope not everything."

Returning Angela's smile, Abby pointed at the skull on the pedestal in front of the artist. "That is so cool. I have a program that I use; but, this looks like a really neat way to do a reconstruction. It has to be pretty time consuming, isn't it? Did you do all of the reassembly?"

Shaking her head, Angela responded, "Dr. Brennan reassembled all of the pieces, I don't have the patience for that! I do have a digital program that I can use depending on what we have to work with; but, the accuracy of the program relies on the parameters entered. The result is about a 72 percent success rate. Doing it this way, I get a better feel for what the victim looked like. Once I've applied the clay and I feel I'm comfortable with the results, I enter the information into the digital program and we average about an 87 percent success rate."

Nodding, Abby replied, "Wow, a fifteen percent better success rate. I'll keep that in mind. We don't have the same equipment; but, it's always helpful to know where other resources might be available." Abby glanced around the office, "I love these paintings. Are they all yours?" At Angela's nod, Abby continued, "You're definitely a very accomplished artist. Grinning Abby continued, "Although as my friend Zed would say, I'm not sure about your technique; but, then I'm probably not a good judge of that."

Looking towards the easel just inside of the doorway holding her latest painting, Angela replied, "Thanks."

Hodgins waited patiently for the women to finish talking and then cleared his throat, "Abby and I are going to go over the data she collected from the bags the victim was in as well as the bugs and particulates that they collected at the dumpster site. We were going to go to lunch first though. Do you want to go with us?"

Shaking her head, Angela replied, "No, that's ok. I'm going to have lunch with Michael today."

Nodding his head, Hodgins replied, "Ok, kiss him for me."

"I will."

Leaving the office, Abby commented, "Her paintings are very interesting."

Walking towards the main entrance, Hodgins noticed Wendell leaving Cam's office, "Hey man, this Abby Sciuto from NCIS. We're going to lunch. Do you want to go with us?'

Wendell looked over the attractive young woman walking beside Hodgins and smiled, "Sure! Sounds good." Turning towards Abby, Wendell introduced himself, "Hi, I'm Wendell Bray. I'm an intern in the anthropology program here."

Abby reached out to shake Wendell's proffered hand. "Hey, nice to meet you. Do you work for Dr. Brennan? I hear she can be tough to work for." At his nod, she continued, "How do you like working with her?

Wendell grimaced and looked around to see if anyone was nearby. "You're right, she's tough. But, if you want to learn from the best then you can't do better than Dr. Brennan."

Abby nodded in response. "Yeah that's how I feel about working with Agent Gibbs. He's tough and committed; but, he makes me want to try harder for results and I'm willing to go that extra mile for a boss like that." Forgetting Dr. Hodgins, now walking a few steps behind the two, Abby looked at the intern, "So Wendell, do you like working with skeletons from the ancient past or with the recently dead?"

Shrugging his shoulder, Wendell answered, "Both, I guess. We just had a really interesting case with Neanderthals and Homo Sapiens, if you're interested I can take you over to see it sometime. I like helping to solve those kinds of ancient riddles; but, I really think it's cool to help get justice for victims of crime. I hate it when someone thinks it's ok to just take a life like its nothing."

Nodding her head, Abby replied, "I agree. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than seeing someone arrested for a crime they committed. I hate it when they think they've gotten away with murder. I like to see that smug look disappear from their face." Wendell grinned at her enthusiasm as she continued, "Colin mentioned the exhibit that y'all just opened; but, I haven't been able to convince him to give me a tour yet. I'd love it if you would be willing to show me."

Startled at her comment, Wendell looked at her questionally, "Colin? Fisher? You know Fisher?"

Abby nodded, "Yeah. I know him from some of the comedy clubs. I know that he works at the Jeffersonian; but, mostly I just know him as a comedian in the clubs."

Puzzled, Wendell shook his head. "Fisher. Okay. I'd be glad to show you the exhibit, Abby. Let's talk about it over lunch and we can set up a time."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo o

Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard was sitting in Brennan's office reading the reports that Brennan had complied about their John Doe. In turn, Brennan was looking over the information that Ducky had brought about the soft tissue belonging to the victim found in the bags.

"This is very thorough, Dr. Brennan. I see that you were able to reconstruct the skull and that Ms. Montenegro is working on the facial reconstruction. That's very good. The pieces were so small, I find it astonishing that you were able to finish it so soon. When do you plan to work on the rest of the skeleton?"

Looking up from the report she was reading, Brennan replied, "Ms. Wick, one of my interns, has started some of the preliminary work on what we were able to retrieve of the skeleton. I plan to start on the reconstruction this afternoon. If you're interested in seeing what we have, I can take you to see it."

Before Ducky could answer, Booth, entered the office, "Hey, Bones, do you and Dr. Mallard feel like taking a break and going to lunch with me?"

Looking towards her partner in the office doorway, Brennan smiled. Turning back to Ducky, she asked, "Would you care to join us for lunch, Dr. Mallard?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Ducky replied, "I wouldn't want to interfere with your lunch plans. I can go get a sandwich and meet you back here in an hour."

Walking further into the office, Booth responded, "Nonsense, Doc. We're just going to the Royal Diner. It's nothing fancy; but, they serve a great hamburger and fries."

Smiling, Ducky replied, "Well, in that case, I'd be more than happy to join you. I haven't had a descent hamburger in quite a while."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sitting in the Diner, Booth watched as Brennan stole a fry from his plate. Shaking his head, he turned his attention to Ducky, "So, Dr. Mallard, how do you like the burger?"

Placing the burger back on to his plate, Ducky shook his head, "Please, Agent Booth, call me Ducky. Dr. Mallard is too formal."

Nodding his head, Booth smiled, "You can call me Booth. Almost everyone does."

Picking up his burger, Ducky noticed Brennan stealing fries from Booth's plate. "This burger is very good. The fries are excellent too. I'll have to keep this place in mind the next time I want a properly made hamburger."

Booth, watching as another fry left his plate, reached over and took a strawberry off of Brennan's fruit plate. Taking a bite from it, Booth waved the half eaten piece of fruit in front of Brennan. Ignoring Booth, she grabbed the pickle spear sitting on the side of his plate. Startled, Booth reached out and grabbed her hand, "Nah ah," He laughed, "Not my pickle."

Shaking her head, she dropped the pickle onto the table. Booth, laughed, picked it up and bit off a piece. Ducky, amused at the antics of his lunch companions, smiled, " I really appreciate the opportunity to work with you Dr. Brennan. The Jeffersonian is one of my favorite places in Washington D.C. There are so many wonderful exhibits." Brennan nodded in agreement. "One of my favorite exhibits," he continued, "is the Lincoln exhibit. Have you explored it at all? They have the medical equipment that was used by Army Surgeons Joseph Woodward and Edward Curtis at the post mortem of Abraham Lincoln. You know that the post mortem was performed in a guest bedroom at the White House. They also have the projectile that John Wilkes Booth fired that killed Abraham Lincoln. It's fascinating that they have the bits of skull of …"

Seeing the shocked look on Booth's face, Ducky stopped speaking. Booth, a little pale, looked down at his plate and fidgeted with the rest of his pickle spear.

Not understanding what was going on, Ducky asked, "I'm sorry. Have I said something wrong?"

Shaking his head, Booth looked up at Ducky's concerned face and replied, "No. You didn't say anything wrong. I . . . uh . . . You know, I just remembered that I have an appointment I need to keep." Standing up, Booth smiled, "It was nice seeing you again, Ducky. Bones, I'll see you this evening."

Watching Booth leave the Diner, Ducky turned to Brennan, "I'm certain I said something wrong."

Shaking her head, Brennan replied, "No, you didn't say anything wrong. Booth is a very busy man."

Uncertain, Ducky nodded his head.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Later that afternoon, Ducky was sitting on the corner of Gibbs desk, telling him about his visit to the Jeffersonian. "Dr. Brennan is quite brilliant. She's already reconstructed the skull and has started on the skeleton."

Not looking up, Gibbs continued to key in a report on his PC.

"I went to lunch with Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan," Ducky continued. "The most peculiar thing occurred. I was telling them about my favorite exhibit at the Jeffersonian and Agent Booth suddenly became quite pale and then told me he had a meeting and left. He seemed quite upset; but, Dr. Brennan tried to tell me that he's just busy. The whole thing was quite puzzling."

Looking up, Gibbs asked, "You didn't tell them about the Lincoln exhibit did you?"

Puzzled, Ducky replied, "Yes, why is that a problem?"

Exhaling a deep breath, Gibbs responded, "Yeah, it can be for some people, especially if they're distantly related to John Wilkes Booth."

Surprised, Ducky exclaimed, "Oh my. I didn't realize. Oh." Looking quizzically at Gibbs, he asked, "Doesn't that mean that if Agent Booth is distantly related to John Wilkes Booth then you must be also? Why haven't you told me about that before?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Gibbs replied, "I didn't think it was necessary. Between me and my Dad there are enough nuts in the family tree, I'm not exactly thrilled to let people know that I there's a presidential assassin there too. I'm sure Seeley Booth feels the same way."

Shaking his head, Ducky replied, "Oh my. I didn't mean to upset the poor man. I will have to apologize to him the next time I see him."

Shaking his head, Gibbs responded, "I wouldn't. It'll just embarrass him. I'd suggest that you just leave it alone."

Sighing, Ducky replied, "You're family history is very complicated."

Laughing sadly and shaking his head, Gibbs replied, "No kidding."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooo

NCIS fans recognize the source of Ducky's faux pas with Agent Seeley Joseph Booth. In "Heart Break" (S. 2, Ep. 8) Ducky takes a Cmdr. Janice Byers to the basement of the Smithsonian to see his favorite exhibit, the tools used for Abraham Lincoln's postmortem.

For anyone with a historical interest, an accounting of the autopsy can be found here: www . nlm . gov / visible proofs / galleries / cases / Lincoln . Html (remember to remove the spaces)

Penny and I would appreciate a review of this story. Thank you.

For Bones fans, Abby and Angela apparently have both made the acquaintance of a local graffiti artist "Zed". Angela met him in "The But in the Joke" (S. 8, Ep. 8) where Fisher's comedic talents were also discussed. The reference to the Neanderthal Homo Sapiens exhibit is from this week's episode "The Archaeologist in the Cocoon" (S. 8 Ep. 11)


	7. Chapter 7

Penny and I appreciate all the wonderful reviews and follows we've been receiving for this story. Thank you so much for reviewing our story. It really makes our day.

We don't own Bones or NCIS, darn it.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Fascinated with the ability Temperance had to reconstruct a skeleton from such small pieces, Ducky had made arrangements to be at the Jeffersonian for at least a part of the time to observe her as she worked her mad skills on the very small skeleton pieces.

Watching as she studied the pieces layed out on the stainless steel table in front of her, he commented, "I think it's really amazing that you've already managed to reconstruct twenty percent of the skeleton in such a short time. If I had to do it, it would probably take me a week just to get this far and I never would have been able to reassemble the skull with such accuracy."

Moving one of the larger pieces in her hand slowly over the other bones resting on the table, Brennan kept her eye open for a possible match. "I find it helps if I start with the bigger pieces first. The more of the skeleton I can piece together before I have to deal with the smaller pieces the better."

Ducky bit back a smile as he watched the female intern, standing next to Brennan mimic her mentor. He tried to remember the intern's name, Fern? Rose? No. Oh well, it would come to him. He shook his head as he watched the determined look on the intern's face as she moved a piece of bone over the table. He could almost hear her hoping against hope to find a match.

He almost laughed out loud at the look of chagrin that went across the intern's face as Dr. Brennan slowly picked up a piece of bone from the table and matched it to the piece in her hand and glued the pieces together. He heard the intern, "What IS her name?" audibly sigh as Temperance repositioned the glued piece in her hand and began to repeat the process of searching for a matching piece to the now bigger piece in her hand.

Glancing at Brennan's studious face, Ducky cleared his throat. "I may have committed a serious faux pas yesterday when I had lunch with you and Booth."

Seeing her raised eyebrows, but noting her concentration on the items before her, Ducky continued, "I mentioned John Wilkes Booth and apparently I shouldn't have. I had no idea that Booth was related to the assassin of Abraham Lincoln. Special Agent Gibbs informed me of the family connection. If I had known that there was a familial connection to Booth and Gibbs I would never have mentioned it."

Daisy inhaled sharply and gave Ducky a look mixed with incredulity and fear.

Irritated, Brennan looked sharply at her intern, "Ms. Wick, I believe Doctor Mallard was talking to me."

"Ah yes!" Ducky thought. "That's it. Daisy Wick."

Blushing, Daisy lowered her eyes back to the table and tried to listen to the mesmerizing conversation without actually appearing to.

Turning her gaze to Ducky, Brennan remarked, "It is something that Booth doesn't like to talk about. He has told me in the past that he considers it a stain on his family's honor. He takes honor and fidelity very seriously."

Nodding his head, Ducky asked, "Do you think I should apologize to him for bringing it up? I realize that I embarrassed him and I didn't mean to do that."

Daisy, sneaking a look at Ducky, shook her head slightly and then lowered her gaze back to the task on the table in front of her.

Shaking her head, Brennan looked back down at the bone pieces, "No, I think it would probably be best if you didn't say anything further about it."

Nodding his head, Ducky picked up two pieces of bone he had been studying and showed them to Brennan, "I believe these match."

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Angela had finished with the facial reconstruction and had entered the rendering into the missing person's database. She gave a satisfied sigh when the computer alerted her that there was a possible match in the database. There was a ninety five percent probability that the victim had been Peter Matthew Van Pelt, aged twenty-four from Chesapeake, Virginia. His mother had reported him missing to the Chesapeake Police Department the previous day. Angela had the brief thought that it seemed odd that his mother had waited five days to report him missing.

Shrugging her shoulders, Cam studied the picture of Peter Van Pelt, "I'm sure Booth will want to know why it took her so long to tell anyone that he was missing."

Staring at the picture of the young man, Angela sighed, "I guess I really find it peculiar he lived with her and he didn't have a job. I could understand it if he lived on his own; but, he lived with her. He filed a Federal and State tax return every year; he claimed no income and yet he owned a car and had a driver's license. He doesn't have a criminal record and he's never even had a parking ticket. How does someone like that get a car and the money for gas, insurance and upkeep?"

Pursing her lips, Cam replied, "Perhaps his mother bought it for him."

Sighing, Angela slowly shook her head, "I'm telling you, if I had a twenty four year old son living off of me like that I might be tempted to kill him myself."

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Until Booth found the time to talk to Gibbs privately about their family issues, he decided that he would treat Gibbs like any other Federal employee he had to deal with.

"Gibbs."

Hearing Gibbs answer the phone brusquely, Booth inhaled, "Yeah, this is Seeley Booth. Angela got a hit on our victim. She's going to be sending you the particulars within the next thirty minutes. His name is Peter Matthew Van Pelt, aged twenty four. He's a civilian living in Chesapeake, Virginia. His mother, Tricia Van Pelt reported him missing yesterday morning. I plan to go over to her house in about an hour to interview her and I thought I'd check and see if you wanted to go with me."

Surprised at the civil tone coming from the Agent, Gibbs replied, "Yeah, send me the address and I'll meet you there."

"I thought we could drive down together." Booth replied.

Puzzled at Booth's turn around in attitude, Gibbs gave a slight smile as he cautiously replied, "Alright. You want to come by and pick me up or do you want me to drive over to the Hoover?"

Smiling, Booth replied, "I'll come and get you."

Curious, Ziva watched Gibbs end his call, "Was that Agent Booth?"

Nodding his head, Gibbs replied, "Yeah, the artist was able to get a hit in the missing person's database. We have an ID. We're going to go see the victim's mother in Chesapeake."

Leaning forward, Ziva asked, "Would you like for me to come with you?"

Shaking his head, Gibbs stood up, placed his phone in his jacket pocket and picked up his coffee cup, "Nope. The Jeffersonian is going to be sending over the particulars on the victim in the next half hour. I want you to run a complete background check and then call me and let me know what you find."

Turning to McGee, Gibbs continued, "I want to know if our victim, Peter Matthew Van Pelt, a resident of Chesapeake, Virginia had any connection to the Navy. I want to know how a civilian ended up at Naval Station Norfolk behind the NEX."

Nodding his head, McGee answered, "Got it Boss. As soon as I find anything I'll call you. Tony's downstairs with Abby going over what she found in the garbage bags the victim was in."

Nodding his head, Gibbs walked over to the elevator and waited for the elevator door to open.

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Reviews are appreciated and desired. Thanks.

If you are enjoying this story in the Bones and NCIS fandoms, you might also enjoy Dyna63's in the crossovers, "Not Today. May Not Tomorrow".


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks to everyone for the great reviews. Penny and I are so happy that you like our story. We're having a lot of fun writing it.

We definitely don't own Bones or NCIS.

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Arriving at the NCIS building, Booth was going to drive into the parking lot until he spied Gibbs standing outside of the building's main entrance. Licking his bottom lip, Booth pulled his SUV up to the curb.

Recognizing Booth as he pulled up in the SUV, Gibbs opened the door and slid in. "Thanks for picking me up."

Nodding his head, Booth checked to make sure it was clear and pulled out onto the street and entered traffic. "Yeah, no problem. Bones and her squints did a pretty good job on the skull." Picking up a folder on the console between them, Booth handed it to Gibbs. "Once they had the face they were able to find our victim in the Missing Persons database fairly quickly."

Taking the folder and opening it, Gibbs noted the name Perry Matthew Van Pelt on the tab, inside he found a fact sheet for their victim. Glancing at the information, he noticed that Perry's mother and sister worked at the NEX at Naval Station Norfolk and that the father had been a Boatswain's Mate in the Navy who'd been killed in a ship board accident when Perry was about nine years old.

Looking up from the report, Gibbs studied Booth's neutral face, "So our victim has a connection to the Navy though his parents and his sister."

Nodding his head, Booth responded, "Yeah, but Perry's mother waited five days to inform the Chesapeake police that her son was missing. That doesn't sit well with me. You have any thoughts?"

Gibbs returned his gaze to the fact sheet and contemplated the change in the younger man. Booth's lack of animosity surprised him and made him curious. Pulling his attention back to the fact sheet in front of him, Gibbs leaned back in his seat and watched the road ahead. "Yeah? That is interesting and more than a little intriguing."

Gibbs looked out of the window at the changing landscape, "I remember when all of this was just open farm land nearly all the way to Norfolk. Hard to believe all of this retail has been built up around here, eh?"

Booth glanced over at this passenger and then back at the road. He gave a low chuckle as he responded, "I don't know that I mind the retail as much as the increase in traffic."

Gibbs reached down and released the back of the passenger seat slightly. He leaned back in the seat and smiled over at Booth, "And that's why I'm letting you drive."

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For the next few miles toward Chesapeake Booth and Gibbs were quiet each lost in their own thoughts. Booth watched the road and so did Gibbs. About an hour from their destination, Booth cleared his throat and glanced at Gibbs. "I uh . . . . I had an interesting conversation with my grandfather about . . . well about you and my Dad."

Curious, Gibbs turned his gaze toward Booth. "Yeah?"

Nodding his head, Booth flicked his eyes to Gibbs and back to the road. Gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, Booth continued, "Yeah, he pointed out that my old man wasn't exactly the most honest man walking this earth and that something Dad told me when I was a kid might have been a lie or at least a misunderstanding."

Not sure where the conversation was headed, Gibbs kept his eyes trained on Booth.

Sighing, Booth shrugged his shoulders, "Ok, I have a question for you."

Rubbing the end of his nose, Gibbs responded, "Go ahead."

Realizing that his hands were going numb, Booth relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, "Why did you transfer from Philadelphia in 1978?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Gibbs replied, "Transfer? I received orders. I was sent to South Korea. You probably don't remember, but there were two American Soldiers killed by the North Koreans in 1976 when they chopped down a tree in the demilitarized zone. The United States rotated more Marines into the area for awhile to make sure that it didn't escalate and that the North Koreans weren't going to use that incident to juice up another war. They needed my specialty."

Puzzled, Booth asked, "You didn't ask for the transfer?"

Shaking his head, Gibbs observed Booth carefully, "No I didn't. I had orders."

Sighing, Booth nodded his head. "Okay then. Thanks."

Watching Booth relax, Gibbs realized that he may have given his cousin the answer that the man needed to hear. Deciding to give him some time to come to grips with whatever dilemma that had been bothering him, Gibbs picked up the folder again and reread the fact sheet.

After a few more miles in silence, Booth cleared his throat. "So, why did you look us up, my Dad, I mean, when you were in Philadelphia?"

Gibbs glanced over at the younger man, "Have you met my Dad, Booth?" At Booth's negative shake of his head, Gibbs continued, "He was not an easy man to live with, but, then your father wasn't either was he?"

"No," Booth replied with a scowl.

"Yeah, well," Gibbs continued, "We each have our demons and we all deal with them in our own ways. Unfortunately sometimes how we deal with them affects the people around us and they take the brunt of our actions. I don't know all of my Dad's story, but, I know that he's an old man and he has some regrets. Growing up, I didn't have the benefit of perspective that age and experience provides. I knew about Hank and the feud between them, but I never really knew exactly what happened until years later. Just that Dad had a brother and I had a cousin; but, we didn't talk to them. Stillwater was far enough from Philly that it seemed like a world away. When I got orders to Philadelphia, I knew that I had family in the area and it just seemed like I should make an effort, you know?" He glanced over at Booth.

Booth grimaced, "I remember Dad mentioning your call and that you were going to come over to the house. I listened in one night when he and Mom were talking. At first he seemed a little distrustful but he seemed to come around. We didn't really have any family on my Dad's side of the family except for Pops. Dad pretty much kept us away from Mom's side of the family. Jared and I really didn't meet any of Mom's family until we moved in with our grandparents. Hank wanted to make sure that we kept in contact with as much of our family as possible when he took over raising us. . . . It's funny, but, I was an adult before I realized that Dad was homophobic and that's why he kept us from knowing my Mom's sister. Anyway, I remember Dad being so excited when you contacted him and said you wanted to meet him. I think he was lonely and all he had was just Mom, me and Jared. His drinking had gotten so bad by then we'd stop visiting Pops and Gran. I guess Dad didn't want Pops to know how bad everything had gotten. He'd call Pops; but, we didn't go see them anymore."

Clearing his throat, Booth glanced at Gibbs and then back at the road, "I knew you'd come to the house once in a while, but we were always sent to bed before you came over. You know he got better for awhile when you were around. He stopped drinking and Mom and I weren't afraid of him. It wasn't peaceful though. It wasn't the first time he'd been sober and I guess we both kind of walked around on eggshells and waited for the other shoe to drop."

Gibbs cleared his throat and looked at the man in the driver's seat. "The first night we met was a little awkward but we seemed to get comfortable with each other fairly quickly. I'd had a couple of overseas assignments but I didn't go to Nam like your Dad. We talked about our fathers, I remember that. Joseph and I had heard different versions of the feud from our fathers and we compared notes. I'm still not sure either of us knew the truth about what really happened. I'm not sure Dad or Uncle Hank are sure either." Gibbs grimaced and Booth nodded in agreement.

Frowning, Gibbs continued, "Joseph and I did agree that there had been enough water under the bridge and life was just too short for the two of us to carry on their crazy grudge. We got together a few times at your house and over at the VFW where your Dad belonged."

Booth nodded, "Yeah, I remember that he'd go over to the VFW post. I remember some of the Memoral Day picnics the post would sponsor. We'd go and place flags on the graves over at Westminster Cemetery in Bala Cynwyd the day before and then go to the services on Memorial Day. We'd take a picnic lunch and Pops and Gran would come with us. It was really nice when Dad was sober but once he started drinking we never knew who would show up."

Gibbs looked at the anguish on Booth's face. "I understand. One night I was over at the house and we'd had a couple of beers. Your mother, Milly was a beautiful woman," Gibbs smiled at the memory. "Anyway, Milly brought out a snack for us and I don't know what set him off but all of a sudden your father just went off. He smacked the dish out of her hand and it crashed on the ground. As soon as it hit the floor he started berating her. I remember she cowered away from him and she backed her way back in to the house. I was embarrassed and furious. I could tell that it wasn't the first time he'd done that. There a lot of things that I will tolerate but a man treating a woman, any woman let alone his wife and the mother of his children, that way. No way. It's not acceptable. It was just so unconscionable. I decked him."

Booth felt his breath catch in his throat and looked sideways at Gibbs, "You decked him? My dad?"

Gibbs grinned, "Yeah, then I had a talk with him. He was drunk that night and I realized a few minutes into it that he wasn't going to remember any of it; so, I made sure Milly was okay and told her that I'd be back the next night. I had a buddy back at the base that I knew was going to A.A. meetings."

Booth grimaced, "Yeah, I know about the twelve step recovery program. It's not a spectator sport. The whole family gets to play that game."

Gibbs gave a snort, "I hadn't looked at it like that but I guess you're right. Anyway, when I got back to the base that night I talked to CJ about Joseph. He said that the alcoholic has to be the one to reach out. He told me that A.A. isn't for people who need it, it's for people who want it. It's a program of attraction not promotion. CJ gave me permission to give Joseph his contact information and they hooked up. I don't know if you knew that your Dad had tried A.A. or not."

Booth shook his head, "No, I didn't. I guess that explains a bit about why he was sober for awhile around that time. . . . It wasn't the only time he sobered up, but I thought he was sober because he was meeting you. I guess he was going to meetings?"

Gibbs nodded, "CJ wouldn't tell me much. He did say that he had to respect your Dad's anonymity but he could tell me that your Dad seemed to enjoy the meetings and was getting to know some of the guys. That's when I got my orders for South Korea."

Booth looked over at his cousin, "I don't know if it was you getting orders or what happened; but I know when you were transferred to South Korea, Dad told Mom that you'd requested the transfer. He said that you'd told him that you were tired of us and that we were bunch of losers. I hate to say it and you have to remember I was only eight not quite nine and I believed him. Mom and I believed him. I didn't have a reason not to. I'm sorry. Maybe if I'd thought about it, really thought about it, I would of realized that he was probably lying. As far as I knew, you were just another version of my father. After you left the abuse got worse again. He started going back to the VFW post; but we didn't go to any of the activities anymore. He'd just disappear and drink and come home and scream at us or worse."

Gibbs nodded in acknowledgment, "I didn't go to Vietnam. I know that your Dad struggled with some of what he saw over there, Booth. If Joseph had been able to stay with A.A. he might have had a chance. Most of the guys at the VFW post where your Dad went were World War II and Korean Conflict vets. They'd seen the horrors of war; but Vietnam was different. World War II vets were supported at home. The Korean War, well those guys were mostly ignored; but, the Vietnam vets had it different. They didn't have a lot of support and that war was unpopular at home. It just added to the PTSD that a lot of them suffered from when they got back."

Booth stared at the road ahead of him and thought about his Dad and about the information that his cousin had given him. He hadn't known that his Dad had tried A.A. and he knew from personal experience with Gamblers Anonymous how challenging it could be to deal with an addiction. He scowled as he looked out of the windshield. Taking a deep breath, he glanced at Gibbs, "He died last year, you know?"

Gibbs glanced at the man sitting next to him, "I heard, I'm sorry. I wish things could have been different for him for you and your Mom and your brother. I wish that I could have helped."

Booth frowned, "Thanks. I appreciate it. I appreciate the talk and the information. I need to think about it. I appreciate you letting me know what happened. It does help, thanks."

Gibbs held up his hand and fished his ringing cell phone out of his pocket. Glancing at the caller ID, Gibbs pushed the button for the speakerphone and answered, "Gibbs, go ahead McGee. I've got you on speakerphone so that Agent Booth can hear whatever you have to say."

McGee, responded, "Hey Boss. I have some information for you on our vic, Perry Matthew Van Pelt."

Glancing over at Booth, Gibbs replied, "We're listening, Mcgee, go ahead."

Staring at his monitor, McGee continued, "Perry Matthew Van Pelt, born in 1988 in Naval Station Mayport, Jacksonville, Florida. His father was Terry Hampton Van Pelt a Boatswain Mate in the United States Navy. Father, Terry was killed in a shipboard accident in 1997. His mother is Tricia Van Pelt. She's never remarried. He has a sister named Mary Van . . ."

Interrupting McGee, Gibbs glanced at the folder in his hands, "According to the FBI, Perry was living with his mother in Chesapeake and Perry was unemployed. Have you found out if he had a criminal record?"

Shaking his head, McGee replied, "No adult criminal record of any kind, Boss. He did have a juvenile record; but, as far as I can find out it really wasn't much of anything. He stole a car when he was 15 years old and totaled it about twenty minutes later. He spent a year in a Youth Detention Center; but, it looks like he may have learned his lesson There's nothing after that."

Shrugging his shoulders, Gibbs grunted, "Or hasn't been caught doing anything illegal since then."

Listening, Booth glanced over and nodded, "Yeah."

On the other end of the line, McGee replied, "Yeah, that's true."

Flipping his phone closed, Gibbs looked over at Booth. "Well, that's a little more than we had before."

"Yeah," Booth replied. "We'll see if we can do anything with it. I think the mother's house is just down the road from here.

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Penny and I would like to thank you for reading our story. We would appreciate it if you would review this chapter and tell us what you think of it. Thanks.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you so much for all of the wonderful reviews. You make us so happy.

Neither Penny nor I own Bones or NCIS, sad but true.

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Arriving at the home of Tricia Van Pelt, Booth parked the SUV in the driveway behind a green Ford Fiesta. Leaving his truck, Booth looked around and noticed that the front lawn needed mowing and the bushes needed to be trimmed. Gibbs, standing next to the passenger's side door, waited for Booth to come around to his side of the truck.

Pointing with his head, Gibbs informed Booth, "You take the lead."

Surprised, Booth nodded his head and walked over to the front door. Knocking, Booth stepped back and glanced at Gibbs. Hearing the door open, Booth returned his gaze to the entrance.

A boy of about eight stood in the shadows of the doorway, "We don't want any."

Smiling, Booth held up his badge and responded, "Hi, I was wondering if we could talk to Tricia Van Pelt or Mary Van Pelt."

Suspicious, the boy asked, "Are you really a policeman?"

Nodding his head, Booth stepped closer to allow the young boy to see more details of his badge.

Nodding his head, the lad pointed at Gibbs and stared at Booth, "Is he a policeman too?"

Smiling, Gibbs held up his badge for the child to see.

Nodding his head, the curious lad, asked, "My Mom is here; but, my grandma is at work."

Placing his badge back on his belt, Booth asked, "May we speak to your mother?"

Stepping back, the child waited for Booth and Gibbs to enter the house. "My name is Ryan what's yours?"

Concerned about the black eye on Ryan's face, Booth responded, "My name is Seeley and this is my friend Jethro . . . . Ryan how did you hurt your eye?"

Placing his hand under his right eye, Ryan started to explain, "My uncle . . . "

Mary Van Pelt walked into the room and interrupted her son, "Ryan, your lunch is in the kitchen."

Scrunching his shoulders, Ryan stared at his mother and then at Booth and Gibbs. "Mom, these guys are policeman. They wanted to . . ."

Interrupting her son again, Mary pointed to the kitchen, "Lunch, Ryan."

Shrugging his shoulders, Ryan turned toward the other room then looked back and waved at the two Agents, "Nice to meet you."

Booth and Gibbs watched the young man limp away from them. Turning to Mary, Booth held up his badge again, "Mary Van Pelt?"

Nodding her head, Mary replied, "Yeah, what can I do for the FBI?"

Holding up his badge, Gibbs asked, "What happened to Ryan?"

Suddenly showing fear, Mary crossed her arms across her chest and asked, "Why are the FBI and NCIS bothering me? What's going on?"

Booth, noticing the bruised wrists on the young woman, glanced at the kitchen doorway and asked, "Would you mind answering Agent Gibbs question? What happened to Ryan and while you're at it, what happened to you?"

Dropping her arms to her side and and tugging the sleeves down over her wrists, Mary glanced at the floor and then at Booth, "Ryan ran into a door."

Staring at Mary, Booth pointed to her wrists, "And you?"

Staring defiantly at Booth, Mary replied, "If you have to know, my boyfriend and I got carried away the other day."

Shaking his head, Gibbs asked, "Could you tell us where your mother is?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Mary answered, "Mom's at work. She works at the NEX at Naval Station Norfolk. She'll be home at five. I work there from 3 pm until closing."

Curious, Booth asked, "Who watches Ryan while you and your mother are at work."

Getting irritated, Mary responded, "When school is in, his teachers do. When school is out for the summer and after school a friend watches him until Mom comes home. Look, I want to know what you want. If you won't tell me then I'm going to ask you to leave."

Schooling his face into a blank mask, Booth responded, "Your brother Perry was found dead on Tuesday."

Placing her hands over her mouth, Mary stared wide eyed at Booth and then Gibbs, "I didn't do . . . uh . . . Perry is dead? . . . Where did you find him? . . . Was he killed in a car wreck? He's always driving too fast."

Noticing the slip, Booth replied, "His body was found by the dumpster behind the NEX, the one where you and your mother work."

Clinching her hands into fists, Mary held them against her mouth, "I need to call my mother. We've been worried about him for days."

Watching her closely, Gibbs asked, "Why did she wait to report him missing? He'd been dead for a week when his body was found."

Removing her hands from her mouth, Mary moved her hands to her side, "We thought he was staying with some friends. He gets tired of Mom and me sometimes and stays with friends. He was gone longer than usual this time and Mom called his friends and found out no one knew where he was so she called the police to report him missing. We didn't know he was missing before that. We would have called sooner if we'd known he was missing."

Pausing, Mary crossed her arms again, "Why are the FBI and NCIS interested in Perry? I mean he died in an accident right?"

Shaking his head, Booth replied, "No, it would appear that he was murdered."

Taking a step back, the woman hugged herself, "Murdered?"

Nodding his head, Booth replied, "Yes, we're sorry for your loss."

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Walking back to the truck, Booth replied, "Care to take a trip to Naval Station Norfolk?"

Nodding his head, Gibbs opened the passenger door and entered the truck, "Yeah, I think we'd better."

Entering the truck, Booth looked back at the house and at Mary watching them from the doorway, "Someone has been beating the hell out of Mary and her son."

Glancing at the woman tracking their exit from the driveway, Gibbs responded, "Yeah, I got that."

Backing the truck into the street, Booth regarded the house and the woman standing stockstill in the doorway. "I don't like it."

Giving Booth a sideways glance, Gibbs replied, "Yeah, neither do I. Maybe Tricia Van Pelt will give us more information about what's going on."

Snorting, Booth replied, "Unless she's the cause of the abuse."

Shaking his head, Gibbs responded, "Ryan started to say something about this uncle."

Casting a brief look at his cousin, Booth moved his eyes back at the road, "Yeah, I caught that too. Maybe the uncle has been using them as punching bags or maybe he tried to protect them from their mother. I'll reserve judgment until we talk to her."

Staring straight ahead, Gibbs frowned, "God I hate domestic abuse cases."

Startled, Booth glanced at Gibbs, "I know I sure as hell do."

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Penny and I would appreciate reviews. What do you think of our story? Is it still interesting?


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks for all of the great reviews. You guys make us so happy. We just love reviews.

Neither Penny nor I own Bones or NCIS. We just thought we'd mention that just in case you think we do.

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Arriving at the NEX, Booth looked around and with a thoughtful look, said, "We should probably assume that the daughter has been in contact with the mother by now. I'm thinking that you should take the lead this time."

Looking over at Booth as they exited the vehicle, Gibbs replied, "Yeah. I wouldn't doubt that she has. Okay, let's try it your way this time."

After asking for the manager, the two agents waited near the front entrance. Hurrying up to them, a man smiled nervously and introduced himself, "Gentlemen? I'm Caleb Bishop, I'm the manager here. Candy told me you wanted to talk to me. What can I do for NCIS and the FBI?"

Holding out his badge, Gibbs responded, "My partner and I would like to interview Tricia Van Pelt."

Flicking his eyes to Booth and then back to Gibbs, Caleb laughed nervously, "Uh, ok. Let me have her paged to come to my office. You can interview her there. . . Is there something I need to know?"

Shaking his head, Gibbs responded, "Nope. We just need to talk to Tricia Van Pelt privately."

Shrugging his shoulders, Caleb cleared his throat, "Okay, if you would just follow me I'll take you to my office and she can meet us there."

Glancing at Booth's impassive face, Gibbs turned and followed Caleb with Booth a few paces behind.

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Waiting for Tricia, Booth watched as the manager fidget behind his desk. Caleb, aware that he was being closely observed, cleared his throat, "Is this about that body? Was it a murder? I heard that it was a murder." He laughed nervously, then answered his own question. "I guess it would have to be, wouldn't it? No one just crawls into a garbage bag to die, do they?"

The two agents watched the agitated man as he stuck his finger in the collar of his shirt. "I'll leave when Tricia gets here. That's what you want, isn't it? You want me to leave when Tricia arrives?"

Continuing to give the man a fixed look, Booth nodded his head.

Gibbs amused at Booth's antics, sat down on a chair next to Caleb's desk and watched the doorway without comment.

Arriving at the office, Tricia knocked on the doorframe and leaned into the room, "You wanted to see me, Boss?"

Standing, Caleb pointed at Gibbs and then Booth, "These men are with NCIS and the FBI, Tricia. They need to talk to you."

Nodding her head, Tricia walked into the room and replied, "My daughter called me right after you left the house, I . . ."

Holding up his hand, Booth scowled at the curious manager. Taking the hint, Caleb walked around his desk. Flicking his gaze from the agents to his employee, "Tricia, I have something I have to take care of. I'll leave the three of you to talk." He hurried to the doorway and left as quickly as his dignity allowed.

Tricia turned and watched the man skitter from the room. He reminded her of a hermit crab looking for a place to hide. She addressed the two agents, "Like I started to say, my daughter called me and told me that an agent from NCIS and the FBI had been to my house. That's you two correct?" At their simultaneous nods, she continued, "Mary said that you told her that Perry is dead. That my son is dead."

Watching the woman closely, Gibbs responded, "You don't seem very shook up about the news, Ms. Van Pelt. Is this something you were expecting to hear?"

Crossing her arms across her chest, Tricia replied defensively, "How can you say that? You don't know anything about me. Neither of you do. You don't know how I feel about anything."

Nodding his head, Gibbs stood up, "You're right. I don't. But perhaps you can tell us this, Ms. van Pelt. Why did you wait five days to report your son missing?"

Glaring, Tricia pursed her lips, "Mary told me that she explained to you about Perry just taking off for days at a time. You can ask his friends. They'll tell you what Mary told you. He'd get tired of living in a house of women and he'd just leave. He'd come back when he needed money or a good home cooked meal."

Aware that Booth was watching her intently, Tricia glanced at him and then dismissed him. Turning back to Gibbs, she added, "Perry hung out with dangerous people, Mr. uh. . . Who are you anyways? I think you should show me your badges."

Pulling his badge and ID out of his pocket, Gibbs replied, "Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, ma'am, NCIS." He pointed at Booth who quickly flashed his badge and then put it back on his belt, "This is my partner, Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI."

Frowning, Tricia hugged herself, "Perry liked to hang out with bikers. He drank at biker bars. He ran with them and he rode with them. Stuff like that. I told him that they were dangerous; but, what do I know? Whenever I said anything, he'd just tell me to mind my own business; so, I did. No one could tell Perry . . ."

Interrupting the on-going tirade, Booth asked, "Ma'am, how did you get those bruises on your face and around your eyes?"

Startled, Tricia moved her hands to her face, 'How can you . . . I mean, what bruises?"

Shaking his head, Booth responded, "You've done a very good job with your makeup, Ms. Van Pelt; but, I know what I see. You have bruises and black eyes."

Lowering her hands, Tricia sighed, "Perry."

Frowning, Gibbs asked, "Your son beat you?"

Nodding her head, Tricia turned her gaze to her shoe tops, "Perry wasn't very nice and he was worse if he'd been drinking." The agents exchanged a look of understanding as she continued, "If he wanted money and I didn't have any to spare, he'd beat me until I found some."

Staring intently at Tricia, Booth asked, "Did he beat Mary and Ryan? Is that how they got the injuries that we saw? Were those from Perry also?"

Nodding her head, Tricia started to cry, "Yes. He was a good boy. Really, he was. He didn't mean to hit us. He'd just get so angry sometimes or he'd have too much to drink. He didn't mean to hurt us. I know he didn't. He'd apologize when he got sober and saw what he'd done. He didn't mean to hurt us. I know he didn't mean it. He was a good boy and I loved him."

Glancing at Booth and then at Tricia, Gibbs asked, "Did you kill Perry, Tricia?"

Shaking her head vehemently, she looked up and denied it, "No, Agent Gibbs. He was my son. Even though he had a rotten temper, I would never hurt my son. Never. I swear it. I loved him. . . . . If you would just look at his friends you'd see that I'm telling you the truth. He had very dangerous friends."

Oooooooooooooooooo

After they'd left the NEX and were on their way back to the District, Gibbs turned to Booth and asked, "Her makeup was very good. I couldn't tell that she had bruising underneath the makeup until you pointed it out. How could you tell?"

Glancing out of the driver's side window and then back to the road ahead, Booth cleared his throat, "Mom was really good at covering up her bruises too. After awhile I learned how to see what she was hiding. She'd defend my father too you know. Like Tricia Van Pelt defended her son. I know that's typical of domestic abuse victims and I get it on some level because I would hide my bruises and defend my Dad too. I knew that was wrong; but, removed from the situation, it's strange. Now, now I just can't even wrap my head around it. I don't understand it. Not anymore."

Sighing, Gibbs closed his eyes and leaned back into his seat. "Yeah. I know. It's strange how our brains work sometimes, eh?" He paused, then went on keeping his eyes directed on the road ahead. "I wish I could have been more helpful with your Dad, Seeley. I'm sorry I couldn't help Joseph. He wanted to be a good man. It's not that he was weak. He was just powerless and he thought that made him weak."

Flicking his eyes at Gibbs, Booth returned his gaze back to the road, "Yeah, I know a little bit about powerlessness." He thought of the poker chip in his pocket. "Powerless or not though, I would never hit Bones or my children." Shaking his head, Booth glanced at his cousin, "It's okay. It was what it was. Anyway, are you buying the Van Pelt's dangerous friends excuse?"

Shaking his head, Gibbs turned towards his temporary partner, "Nah, not really. I think we've already met the murderer. My guts telling me it's either Tricia or Mary." Booth glanced over at him and nodded as Gibbs continued, "I'd like to wait and see what Dr. Brennan says is cause of death. By the way, Ducky is very impressed with her skill at reassembling bones. He's very hopeful that she might really come up with cause of death."

Proud of Brennan, Booth smiled, "Oh, she will. Bones is the best in the world when it comes to bones and figuring out cause of death. She actually solved a five thousand year old murder once. She proved that some Egyptian prince was wrongly accused of murdering his brother. The Egyptian government gave her an award and threw her a big party at the Jeffersonian."

Impressed, Gibbs smiled, "Wow, that's pretty impressive."

Grinning, Booth nodded his head, "Yeah, I know. She's scary smart and she's the reason my solve rate is so high. Believe me, I know I have a treasure working with me."

Gibbs returned his gaze to the road, nodded his head and replied, "And a treasure in your life as well or am I misreading some signs there?" He smiled at the younger man.

"Absolutely. Absolutely." Curious, Booth asked, "So, I guess you know that Bones and I are living together. That baby you saw the other day is ours. Our daughter is named Christine."

Nodding his head, Gibbs smiled, "Yeah, I know."

After a few miles rolled by, Booth asked, "So are you married?"

Picking up Perry's folder and flipping through it, Gibbs reflected on how he would respond. Finally he answered, "I've been married a few times."

Fascinated at that tidbit of information, Booth asked, "Do you have any kids?"

Closing the folder, Gibbs replied, "I did. My first wife, Shannon and our daughter, Kelly were murdered in 1991. Kelly was eight years old."

Swallowing, Booth glanced at Gibbs' sad face and then forward again, "I'm sorry Jethro. I didn't mean to. . . I'm sorry for your loss. I'm not sure what I'd do if Bones and Christine were taken from me. I shouldn't have asked."

Shaking his head, Gibbs assured Booth, "You didn't know. It was a long time ago. . . I do miss them. They were probably the best part of me."

Nodding his head, Booth sighed, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

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Reviews would really be appreciated. Penny and I look forward to seeing them and read all of them.

A/N: I guess 1991 was a bad year. 1991 was also the year that Max Keenan and his wife Ruth (Christine) abandoned their children, Temperance and Russ.


	11. Chapter 11

We want to thank you for all of the great reviews. We're so happy that you're enjoying our story.

Penny and I don't own Bones. We just borrow it from time to time.

Ooooooooooooooooo

About half way to D.C. Gibbs turned towards his cousin, "How would you feel about getting Jackson and Hank together at least once more before they're gone?"

Flicking his eyes at Gibbs and then back toward the road, Booth guffawed, "You have to be kidding me! I'm pretty sure that Pops won't agree to something like that."

Studying the younger man's profile, Gibbs asked, "Do you know what really happened to start this feud?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth answered, "Pops said that your Dad was responsible for their father's death. The story that I heard is that they were out on the Chesapeake, down near Chester. You know the Bay with all of those inlets. Jackson was driving a boat and it hit something. They took on water fairly quickly and the boat sank. They were just out for the day and weren't properly equiped and didn't have a radio on board. Pops said that he was hurt and doesn't know how long he was out or what happened between the boat hitting something and him waking up in the water; but, Pops said that his father drowned and he blamed Jackson for his death."

Sighing, Gibbs stared at the road ahead, "Yeah, except that there is more to the story."

Smiling sadly, Booth replied, "There always is."

Surprised at Booth's response, Gibbs smiled too, "Yea. The way that it was told to me was that there were only two life jackets on the boat and their father insisted that my Dad help him put one of them on Hank and he insisted that my Dad wear the other one. He told Dad that he was a strong swimmer and he didn't need it. Dad said that his father tread water for hours and that he'd float when he got tired; but, they were in the water too long and he wasn't as strong a swimmer as he'd claimed." Gibbs glanced over at the younger man and the look of concentration on his face. He continued, "Dad said he begged his father to take turns with his life vest; but, he wouldn't do it. Dad spent the whole time holding Hank in his arms and keeping his head out of the water. They'd been in the water for hours when Hank woke up crying in pain. Hank noticed that their father wasn't in sight and that's when Dad noticed that Joseph was missing. He figures that while he must have fallen asleep and that his father drowned. They never did find Joseph's body."

Nodding his head, Booth remarked, "Yeah, that's a little more than I know about it. Pops said that if Jackson hadn't been so reckless about driving the boat then the accident wouldn't have happened. He was supposed to be following some course that their father laid out on the chart; but, Pops swears that Jackson must have veered off course. It's easy to do in that part of the Bay."

Surprised at this new tidbit, Gibbs replied, "Now I've never heard that part of the feud before. That's interesting. . . . Dad said that finally a sail boat came by and radioed a distress signal to the Coast Guard station at St. Inigoes. You do know that your grandfather told the Coast Guard that their father was driving the boat not Dad?"

Nodding his head, Booth glanced at the older man, "Yeah, Pops said that he'd lost his father; so, there was no way he was going to lose his brother to jail or something. . . . Pops is kind of weird about the whole thing. He says he hates Jackson; but, I know for a fact he can't stand for anyone to bad mouth him. He always told me and Jared that he didn't want the feud to go any further and that he hoped that one day we would connect with you. You know why I didn't try."

Shaking his head, "Dad thinks Hank hates him because of the life vests, the fact that their Dad didn't have one."

Pursing his lips, Booth explained, "Nah, as far as I know it has to do with Jackson driving the boat. . . Did you know that Pops bought a burial plot at the Holy Cross Cemetery and put up a headstone for his father? My grandmother, Pop's wife is buried next to that plot and Pops is going to be buried next to her. My Dad is buried on the other side of the stone. There are two other plots next to Dad if Jared or I want to use them. If we don't Pops said to sell them after he dies. I'm going to be buried at Arlington; so, I don't need them. If you and your Dad want them let me know. You can have them as far as I'm concerned."

Curious, Gibbs asked, "What about Jared? Maybe he'd like them?"

Shaking his head, Booth replied, "Nah, he's going to be buried next to Mom."

Turning to look at his younger cousin, Gibbs asked, "What about Temperance?"

Smiling, Booth replied, "As a matter of fact, we talked about this recently. Last month we had this case, anyway, she originally had a Last Will and Testament that was 312 pages. Her plan was to have her body carried to a mountain top, dismembered and pulverized with a hammer to allow for, I think she said, the optimum scavening by vultures!" He glanced over at the look on Gibbs' face and laughed. "Yeah, I know! It's the anthropologist in her. She's reduced the the Will down to 306 pages. Now she just wants to have her ashes scattered over a volcano." As he glanced over at his cousin he couldn't help by chortle.

Gibbs shook his head, "A volcano? She wants her ashes scattered over a volcano? A live volcano?" When the man in the driver's seat nodded his head, Gibbs pursed his lips and nodded his head, "Well, that's one approach. Does she get ideas like this often?"

Booth nodded his head with a resigned look on his face. "You really don't want an answer to that question! As you get to know her you'll see. Don't even get me started on the discussions we had before Christine was born about birthing babies. As it was, our daughter made an early appearance and was born in a stable with me as the attending!"

Gibbs stared at the other agent, "You're not joking are you? In a stable? What, there was no room at the Inn? Don't tell me there were three Wise Men!"

Booth smiled at the memory of their frantic drive from the prison and his daughter's birth. "As a matter of fact . . ." He glanced over at the shocked look on Gibbs's face. "Let's just say that it was quite an experience. One I am not anxious to repeat, ever."

Gibbs continued to shake his head in wonder. "Our family never does anything the easy way, do we? Okay, let me talk to Dad about it. I'm guessing that he'll probably say no about the plots; but, at least I can give him the option. I think he plans to be buried next to his mother. I'm going to be buried next to Shannon and Kelly."

Laughing softly, Booth remarked, "Grams always said that if you tell God everything is wrapped up, he may feel free to take you. I try not to have too many plans; but, Bones and I do have an appointment with our attorney to take care of formalizing everything so we both know where all the information resides when we need it." He glanced back at Gibbs and said, "Wow, from where we started when we got into the SUV this morning, part of this conversation took a turn towards the weird."

Chuckling, Gibbs stared at the passing scenery, "Yeah, but I'm glad we were able to clear the air. As far as I know, other than Dad, you, Jared and Hank are my only living relatives. I'd like it if we could try to keep communication open between us even when this case is over." At Booth's nod, Gibbs continued, "So, do you want to try to get Hank and Dad together?"

Nodding his head, Booth smiled and glanced at his cousin, "Yeah, what the hell. If the two of us can mend fences, we can see if we can't encourage them to do the same. At the very least it will be entertaining for us, right?"

Oooooooooooooooooooooooo

At NCIS, Booth dropped Gibbs off and headed back to the Hoover. Walking off of the elevator, Gibbs noticed Ziva and Tony bickering about something. He walked up behind Tony and smacked the younger agent on the back of the head.

Tony, irritated at Ziva's smirk, turned towards Gibbs, "Hey, Boss. Dr. Brennan called a few minutes ago. She says she has cause of death for Perry Van Pelt."

Surprised, Gibbs sat down behind his desk, "Wow, I thought it would take longer than that. What did she say?"

Sitting on the edge of his desk, Tony responded, "He was stabbed with a knife with a serrated blade. The knife pierced his femur and probably severed the femoral artery. He would have bled out pretty fast."

Curious, Ziva sat down behind her desk and looked at Gibbs, "What did you find out in Chesapeake?"

Looking up from a report he'd been skimming, Gibbs replied, "Tricia, Mary and Mary's son Ryan Van Pelt were being abused by Perry Van Pelt. Tricia says that he was probably killed by some bikers he knew. Tony, I need you to look into his background more."

Staring at his superior, Tony asked, "You believe the biker theory?"

Shaking his head, Gibbs replied, "No . . . No I don't but I want to make sure before I completely dismiss it. In the mean time, Ziva I need you to find out if there have been any domestic disturbance calls to the police placed by Mary or Tricia Van Pelt in the last few years. Agent Booth can probably help with that."

Tim, listening in, volunteered, "I could find that out Boss."

Not looking up from his report, Gibbs reminded Tim, "Agent Booth is part of this investigation. Let him do that part. You help Tony track down Perry's background."

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So, we are waiting on pins and needles. What do you think of our story so far? Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks.


	12. Chapter 12

Penny and I would like to thank you for your enthusiastic reviews. They really make us smile.

Penny and I definitely do not own Bones or NCIS. We wouldn't mind renting Booth or Tony for a few days.

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Ziva contacted Booth to ask him for information on any domestic disturbance calls that may have been made to the Van Pelt home in Chesapeake.

When Agent Shaw brought him the report that evening, he looked it over and called Ziva hoping to catch her at her desk before she left for the day. Studying the report, Booth said, "I have the information that you wanted. How about if we meet for lunch at the Royal Diner tomorrow, say 11:30? We can look over the report and see what jumps out at us."

Ziva replied, "I can come by the Hoover before or after lunch, if that works better for you."

Glancing at the calendar on his laptop, Booth shook his head, "I have meetings lined up all morning tomorrow and my schedule in the afternoon is even worse. It would be easier for me if we could meet at the Diner, if that works for you."

Realizing that Booth was probably a very busy man, Ziva replied, "Of course."

Before ending the call, Booth remarked, "Oh, it's possible that Bones, umm, . . . Dr. Brennan may join us."

Smiling, Ziva replied, "That would be fine."

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Arriving at the Diner, Ziva noticed a man raise his hand in acknowledgement when she walked in. She headed toward the table taking in the beautiful woman sitting next to him. Ziva assumed that this was the Dr. Brennan that Tony and Ducky had mentioned. She also noticed that there was a third person at the table, a young man sitting across from Dr. Brennan.

Walking up to the empty chair across the table from Booth, Ziva smiled, "I am NCIS Special Agent Ziva David."

Smiling, Booth pointed at the empty chair, "Ziva, nice to meet you. You're just in time, we were just getting ready to order lunch This is Dr. Temperance Brennan and Dr. Lance Sweets. I asked them to join us. I thought they might have something to contribute to the discussion."

Ziva nodded and smiled at the two other people as she sat next to Sweets. "I am very glad to meet you, Dr. Brennan. Ducky has been very excited to be working with you on this case. I'm not sure I've ever seen him so willing to work with someone else."

Brennan nodded her head in acknowledgement as she responded, "Agent David, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm not quite certain why Dr. Mallard asked me to help with the skeleton. I am quite certain he could have accomplished reconstructing the skeleton without my help. He is very adept at his job."

Shrugging her shoulders, Ziva explained, "Ducky felt that you could do it more quickly."

Booth pointing to Sweets, "Agent David, Doctor Lance Sweets is my profiler. He works with us on cases from time to time."

Sweets, fascinated with Ziva's origins asked, "Agent David," Sweets nodded his head at her and held out his hand to shake her hand, "Agent Booth was telling me that you are originally from Israel and transferred to NCIS a few years ago. How do you like working for NCIS?"

Glancing around the table, she said, "Ziva, please, if that's ok with all of you?" Acknowledging their nods she turned back to the man next to her, returning the Doctor's penetrating look, Ziva replied, "I like it very much although it took some adjusting since I went from liaison officer with Mossad to an Agent for NCIS." Turning towards Booth, she picked up the menu, "Is there anything special on the menu that you would recommend?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth replied, "They make a really good hamburger, made from fresh meat and their fries are home cut."

Nodding her head, Ziva replied, "That sounds fine."

Dr. Brennan appraised the agent. "They do have an excellent vegetarian selection here too. Quite unusual for this type of a diner." She smiled.

Ziva glanced over the menu and replied, "I think I'll go with the hamburger today although I may ask for some suggestions on vegetarian meals at another time."

Dr. Brennan nodded and glanced over at her partner. He seemed to have had his attention drawn to something on the street and he'd pulled back from the window. Glancing out the window she spotted a clown walk past the diner. Ziva followed their looks then glanced back to Agent Booth. Curious at his tense body language she remarked, "I hate clowns."

Surprised, Booth turned to the agent, "I know, right? How can you trust someone dressed in that much makeup?"

Nodding her head, Ziva watched the clown cross the street, "Exactly."

Smiling, Sweets watched the camaraderie that a common phobia had quickly established between the two agents, "Agent Booth won't tell anyone why he hates clowns."

Shrugging her shoulders, Ziva noticed their waitress standing next to them, "One does not need a reason to hate clowns."

Smirking, Booth pointed at his menu and ordered a BLT and fries. After taking everyone else's order, Marge walked over to the counter.

Booth, slid a folder across the table towards Ziva. "You might want to look this over. There were quite a few domestic disturbance calls to the Van Pelt family home starting in 1990 in Jacksonville, Florida. Calls involving Terry Hampton Van Pelt and his wife Tricia. Those calls ran up until they left Florida in the 1996. There were also reports in there from the Chesapeake PD. Domestic disturbance calls started almost as soon as they relocated to the area and went through 1997 when Terry was killed in an accident. Interestingly the calls started again in 2004 and this time involved Perry Van Pelt and his mother Tricia."

Flipping through the folder, Ziva glanced at the copies of the police reports, "So the abuse in the family began with the father and continued when the son, Perry turned 15 years of age."

Sighing, Booth nodded his head, "Yeah, that happens."

Brennan looked at the two agents. Nodding towards Sweets, she said, "I don't know about psychological reasons, but anthropological studies have shown that domestic abuse runs in families. I remember a professor saying, 'Dad hits Mom. Mom hits the kids and they all kick the dog.' I think that is a generality, of course." Noticing that Booth stiffened next to her, she hastened to add, "What I'm sure Dr. Sweets could attest to is that it takes someone willing to change the situation to break the chain of abuse."

Having noticed the change in Booth's body language, Sweets looked between the two partners and smiled as he watched Dr. Brennan take hold of Booth's hand and give it a squeeze. He watched as they looked at each other and both visibily relaxed at the silent conversation the two had with each other. "I don't know how they do that," he thought. "But if I could bottle that and give it to other couples, I could retire a rich man!"

Tapping the police reports, he was pulled from his thought as Ziva observed, "It doesn't appear that charges were ever filed for any of the calls."

Watching Marge bring their drinks, Booth responded, "Yeah, I noticed that too. That isn't necessarily unusual in domestic abuse cases. Part of the mystery of the whole phenonmenon."

Waiting for Marge to leave after putting down their drinks, Ziva closed the folder, "Tricia Van Pelt and probably her daughter, have been abused for a very long time first by the husband and father and now apparently by the son and brother. Perhaps one of them snapped and could not take it any more. Perry hit his mother or sister and one of them killed him."

Listening to the two agents discuss the case, Sweets glanced between the others at the table. "Or he hit Mary's son. If he started hitting Ryan that could have been enough of a catalyst to get one of them to retaliate and fight back."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth replied, "That sounds very likely; but, right now all we have is cause of death, a serrated knife blade and no other evidence. We don't have cause to get a warrant to search their home, yet. We have no finger prints on the bags that held the body and any DNA that we find on the victim that might have come from Tricia or Mary can be explained away by their lawyer. Perry lived with them and if the police reports are to be believed, he beat them regularly. Any DNA we find from them on him isn't probable cause."

Disgusted with the situation, Ziva shook her head, "So if Tricia did kill her son, she may get away with it?"

Staring at his cup of coffee, Booth picked up his cup, "Dr. Hodgins, one of the squints at the Jeffersonian and Ms. Sciuto are still going over particulates. They may find something. Hodgins is very good and I understand that Ms. Scuito is one of the best as well. If anyone can find anything, I'm guessing we have the best on the case." He grimaced as he continued, "But that is the smelly part of the job, Agent David. Sometimes murderers really do get away with murder."

Staring at Booth's solemn face, Sweets remarked, "It would be kind of ironic if Perry's mother killed him and she got away with it because his beating her would explain any evidence we found on the body."

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So, what do you think of our little story. Any good? Let us know. We are very interested in your opinion. Reviews are our way of knowing what you think.


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks for all of the great reviews, the favorites and the follows. We are so happy you like our story.

Penny and I don't own Bones. Eh, that's the way it goes sometimes.

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Gibbs was sitting at his desk, looking through Perry Van Pelt's background check that DiNozzo and McGee had compiled for him, when his phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, he was surprised to see Booth's name and number. Picking up the phone, "Gibbs. Do you have any news, Booth?"

Booth chuckled and replied, "Jethro, you'll never guess who showed up at the Hoover twenty minutes ago."

Curious, Gibbs asked, "Who would that be?"

Smiling, Booth answered, "Mary Van Pelt. She came here because it's easier to get to the Hoover than the NCIS building. She wants to talk to us."

Interested, Gibbs smiled, "I'll be there in less than thirty."

Ending the call, Gibbs turned and looked at DiNozzo, "Get the car, we're going to the Hoover."

Standing, DiNozzo frowned, "What's going on over there, Boss?"

Standing, Gibbs opened his desk drawer and pulled out his gun. Attaching it to his belt, he replied, "Mary Van Pelt just showed up. Wants to talk to us."

Smiling, DiNozzo responded, "Well that's interesting." Walking towards the elevator, Tony called out to Ziva, "When Tim gets back with my sandwich, don't eat it."

Laughing, Ziva replied, "Do not worry Tony. I am not interested in your sandwich unless it's a po-boy from Cajun Joes."

Worried, DiNozzo stepped on the elevator, "Ziva, don't eat my sandwich."

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs punched the button for the parking garage.

Ooooooooooooooooo

Standing in the observation room, Booth looked through the glass at Mary Van Pelt. "She showed up and told me that she had something important to confess. She wants you to be here because she thinks you're the primary on this case."

Smiling, Gibbs asked, "Aren't I?"

Laughing, Booth replied, "Well, technically, I guess you are."

Shaking his head, Gibbs pointed to Mary, "Let's go talk to her." Glancing at DiNozzo, Gibbs ordered, "You stay here."

Turning towards the window, DiNozzo replied, "Sure thing, Boss."

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Sitting across the desk from Mary, Booth watched as Gibbs talked to their visitor.

Staring at Mary, Gibbs commented, "Agent Booth said that you needed to talk to us."

Nodding her head slowly, Mary replied, "I've decided to turn myself in. I killed my brother."

Frowning, Gibbs asked, "Perhaps Agent Booth should read you your rights, Ms. Van Pelt."

Shrugging her shoulders, Mary responded, "Go ahead. It won't change anything though."

Leaning forward, Booth informed Mary of her Miranda rights. As soon as he was done, Booth asked, "Why did you kill your brother, Ms. Van Pelt?"

Sighing, Mary answered, "Perry came home drunk and told me that he needed money. He said that he'd made a bet with someone named Marco and he'd lost the bet. He said that if he didn't come up with the money, Marco would break his legs. I told him I didn't have any money to give to him. I'd just paid the rent and it was five days before I was going to be paid again. He was furious and starting hitting me. He kept hitting me; but, I couldn't give him something I didn't have. Mom came home while he was hitting me and she tried to stop him. He told her he needed money to pay off Marco and that if I wasn't going to give it to him then she would. Mom told him she didn't have any money and he started beating her. By then, my son had come back from his babysitter and Ryan started crying and he tried to stop Perry from hitting Mom."

Placing her hands over her eyes, Mary began to weep, "He hurt my son, Agent Gibbs. My son. It's one thing to hurt me and Mom; but, he hurt my son and I couldn't allow him to do that. I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a knife and came back into the living room and I stabbed him. I wanted him to die for hurting my son. I wanted him to die and I killed him."

Trembling, Mary shook her head and sobbed, "Perry was evil. He was evil and I had to stop him. I know what I did was wrong and I'm willing to pay the price for what I did."

Rubbing his bottom lip, Gibbs asked, "Your mother witnessed this?"

Nodding her head, Mary continued to sob.

Staring at Mary very intently, Booth asked, "Why did you cut up your brother's body and dump it in the dumpster behind the NEX?"

Removing her hands from her face, Mary replied softly, "I didn't want to go to jail for murder; so,I thought that If I cut up his body and disposed of it somewhere that we could just claim that he left and we didn't know where he was. He hung out with bad people and we knew Marco would be looking for him for the money Perry owed him. I stuffed his body in the garbage bags and drove it over to the NEX after hours. I knew that the trash would be picked up early the next morning. I threw the bags into the dumpster. I didn't leave then next to it. I don't know how they ended up on the ground next to the dumpsters."

Glancing at Gibbs, Booth asked, "Did your mother help you chop up your brother's body?"

Shaking her head, Mary responded, "No, absolutely not. I had her take Ryan away from the house and I did it by myself. The only one that committed a crime was me. I killed him. I chopped him up and I dumped his body. It was all me. No one else was involved. Just me. I admit it."

Shaking his head, Gibbs replied, "Do you have a lawyer?"

Staring at the top of the desk, Mary responded, "I can't afford a lawyer. I don't need one any way since I admit I did it."

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Standing inside the observation room, Booth stared at Mary as she continued to weep. "I don't think she did it."

Sighing, Gibbs watched Booth lean against the room's window, "There isn't a lot we can do if she confesses to the crime. We can try to talk to her and see if she'll change her mind; but, any forensic evidence in the Van Pelt house will probably prove that Perry was killed there. Just not by who. If she's gonna confess . . ." Gibbs let the sentence trail off as he watched the younger man."

Nodding his head over towards DiNozzo, Booth responded, "I think Special Agent DiNozzo should call Tricia Van Pelt and tell her that Mary has confessed to the murder of Perry Van Pelt."

Interested, DiNozzo glanced at Gibbs then back at Booth, "You suspect Tricia Van Pelt murdered her son?"

Nodding his head, Booth replied, "I think Tricia was being beaten and when Perry realized that his mother wasn't going to give him any money he went after his nephew. Tricia snapped and killed her son to protect her grandson."

Curious, DiNozzo asked, "Why don't you think Mary did it?"

Glancing back at Mary, Booth replied, "She said that her son had just come back from his babysitter. Mary works the afternoon shift, 3 p.m. until closing. Her mother Tricia works the early shift. She gets off at five. I called the manager of the NEX yesterday to verify the times Mary and Tricia Van Pelt work and he checked their time cards. The body was found behind the NEX on a night that Mary didn't have to work. I believe that she dumped the body of her brother. But, if we go back to time of death, Perry had been dead five days before his body was discovered. We know from the dumpster divers when they found the body, that they had been there between time of death and when the body was found and it wasn't there. That means that Perry was killed on a day when Mary was at work. She wasn't in the house when her brother was killed."

Staring at Mary, Gibbs shook his head, "So she's trying to take the blame to protect her mother."

Nodding his head at the woman in the interrogation room, Booth replied, "We need to get a search warrant for the house in Chesapeake. Might even have the local LEO's handle that. I think the house is the crime scene and I'm guessing they may have stashed the body in the garage until they decided what to do with it. How to handle it." Booth shook his head. "I'm sure she helped her mother by disposing of the body. I don't know if she helped cut up the body; but, I'm pretty sure that Tricia was the one that killed Perry not Mary. We need to check the house and garage. I'm sure we'll find what we need."

Sadly, Di Nozzo watched the distraught woman, "It must be horrible to live in a house like that."

Looking down at his clenched hands, Booth replied, "Yeah, it must be."

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	14. Chapter 14

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Unable to get Mary Van Pelt to recant her confession, Booth had no choice but to place her in a holding cell. He offered to turn her over to NCIS; but, Gibbs had decided that he'd leave Mary at the Hoover for the time being.

Walking up to the doorway of Booth's office, DiNozzo took note of the two men who appeared to be deep in conversation. Knocking on the door frame, he stuck his head in the room. "I talked to Tricia Van Pelt. She reacted like you thought she would. She's on her way."

Motioning DiNozzo into the room and gesturing toward the empty chair near the door, Booth asked, "How did she sound?"

Chuckling, DiNozzo replied, "Oh, I'd say that she was a little mad." He grinned as he nodded his head. "She started cussing a blue streak. When she finally calmed down she told me that Mary is innocent and she could prove it." Shaking his head, he continued, "That woman could make a sailor blush! She said that she needs to wait for Ryan to get home from school and then she'll arrange for a cousin to take care of him while she gets this mess sorted out. Her words by the way."

Standing, Gibbs turned towards his cousin, "We'll head back to the office." He gestured toward the doorway. "Call us when she shows up."

Acknowledging Gibbs words, Booth smiled, "It'll be interesting to hear what Tricia has to say."

Standing and joining Gibbs near Booth's desk, DiNozzo interjected, "As angry as she is, you'll probably get an ear full."

Shrugging his shoulder, Booth replied, "I'll try not to let her hurt my feelings."

Guffawing, DiNozzo followed Gibbs out of the office.

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Arriving back at the office, DiNozzo walked over to his desk and scanned the top quickly. Turning around and walking across the short space to Ziva's desk, he moved around to her waste basket, picked it up and moved some waster paper inside. Seeing that it was empty of sandwich wrappers, he leaned over Ziva and asked, "Where is it?"

Her eyes sparkling, Ziva replied with a question of her own, "Where is what, Tony?"

Squinting, DiNozzo placed his left hand on her desk and leaned on it, "Where's my sandwich Agent David?"

"I will never tell." The beautiful agent replied with a chuckle.

Sighing, DiNozzo straightened and glared at his partner, "Next time I'm ordering extra jalapenos."

Smiling sweetly, Ziva responded, "Good. I like sandwiches that are spicy."

Irritated, Gibbs barked, "DiNozzo, go check with Abby and see if she and Hodgins came up with anything new. If Tricia is coming in, I want to have something besides her word about what happened."

Glaring at Ziva, Dinozzo responded, "Sure thing, Boss."

Sticking her tongue out at his retreating form, Ziva then turned back to the report she was completing.

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Entering Abby's lab DiNozzo noticed her leaning over a table studying what looked like a piece of green plastic. Jack Hodgins, leaning against the table looked up at the agent and remarked, "He didn't bring it."

Looking up, Abby frowned, "Where's my drink?"

Shrugging his shoulders, DiNozzo responded, "Probably with my sandwich. Tim wasn't at his desk, so if you didn't get what you ordered then you'll have to wait and talk to him about it."

Shaking her head, Abby held up the green piece of plastic, "Never mind, Jack and I found something very interesting. Do you want to hear what it is?"

Grimacing, DiNozzo responded, "No, I just came down here to hear you fuss at me about drinks."

Frowning, Abby responded, "Be nice, Tony." Holding the item in front of the agent, Abby continued, "The blood on this part of the bag has hair stuck in it that doesn't belong to our victim. The hair strands are long and brown and our victim had short red hair."

Puzzled, DiNozzo stated the obvious, "So run a DNA test and determine who the hair belongs to."

Laughing, Jack looked at Abby with an innocent look and quipped, "Gee why didn't we think of that?"

Smiling, Abby shook her head, "Of course we ran a DNA test, Tony. We haven't had a hit in any of the databases, yet. However, I can tell you that it belongs to someone related to the victim. From the markers, it appears that most likely the hair belongs to the victim's mother."

Rubbing his jaw, DiNozzo said, "Great job, too bad it really doesn't help very much."

Curious, Jack asked, "Why not?"

Shrugging his shoulders, the agent replied, "Our victim was beating the crap out of his mother and sister on a regular basis. The day he was killed, he'd been beating both of them. Nice guy, huh?" he scowled as he continued. "If you find any blood or hair on him or in the bags, a good lawyer will be able to explain them away as having been transferred from her to Perry when he was hurting her."

A little exasperated, Jack responded, "Damn it. So any evidence we find in these bags or on the body can be explained away if it belongs to family members."

Nodding his head, DiNozzo replied, "Yep, afraid so."

Shaking his head, Hodgins remarked, "I really hate domestic violence cases. No one wins. Everyone loses."

Turning on his heel to exit the lab, DiNozzo muttered under his breath, "Ain't it the truth. Ain't it the truth."

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	15. Chapter 15

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Ooooooooooooooooo

Answering his phone, Gibbs absently flipped through the report he'd just finished, "Gibbs".

"It's Booth. Tricia Van Pelt is here and she's after scalps. Since you're the lead in the investigation into her son's murder, I thought you'd like to join me. You know, get your fair share."

Chuckling, Gibbs responded, "On my way."

Looking up, Gibbs found Ziva staring at him, "Get the truck. We're going to the Hoover."

Smiling, Ziva stood, grabbed her gun and ID from her desk and headed to the elevator, Gibbs following after her.

DiNozzo, arriving at his desk shortly afterward,turned towards McGee and threw a wadded up piece of paper at the other agent's head, "McSmurf, where's the Boss and Ziva?"

Frowning, McGee looked from his monitor and replied, "They were headed over to the Hoover about fifteen minutes ago, Tony. Tricia Van Pelt finally showed up."

Disappointed, the senior agent muttered, "Damn, I wanted to be there when they talk to her."

Curious, McGee asked, "Why?"

Smiling, DiNozzo replied, "The way she was cussing at me on the phone, I wanted to see her first hand. It should be pretty entertaining over there when Gibbs and Booth interrogate her."

Returning his gaze to his monitor, Tim replied, "I'm sure Ziva will fill you in if you ask her."

Sighing, DiNozzo responded, "It won't be the same. Facial expressions are everything when it comes to the Boss being cussed out."

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Entering the observation room down the hall from Booth's office, Gibbs found his cousin leaning against the window, talking to a tech sitting at the table next to him. Spotting Gibbs entering the room, Booth pointed his right thumb over his shoulder, "Tricia's been quiet since I put her in the interrogation room."

Glancing at Tricia, Gibbs nodded, "Did she say anything?"

Laughing, Booth replied, "Oh yeah, none of it I'd care to have my daughter hear though. She's been read her rights and she's waved her rights to counsel."

Smiling, Gibbs responded, "And from the sounds of it, her right to remain silent!" Laughing, he turned to Ziva, "Stay here." Glancing over at Booth, he gestured toward the door and said, "Ready when you are."

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Witnessing the two men enter the room, Tricia pushed herself up from the table, "What the fu. . . "

Quickly holding up his hand, Booth interrupted, "It would be better for everyone if you'd calm down Ms. Van Pelt. You volunteered to come in. No one made you come down here to talk to us."

Frowning, Tricia growled, "The hell you didn't. You've arrested my daughter for the murder of her brother. She didn't do it."

Pointing at the chair behind the table, Gibbs demanded, "Please sit down Ms. Van Pelt."

Returning to her seat, Tricia grimaced, leaned against the back of the chair and crossed her arms against her chest. Watching the two agents sit down across the table from her, she calmly replied with an exaggerated tenor to her voice, "You have arrested my daughter for a murder she did not commit." Pursing her lips, she scathingly continued, "Is that calm enough for you?"

Smiling, Gibbs replied, "Yes, thank you. Now, if your daughter didn't kill her brother, perhaps you could tell us who did?"

Clearing her throat, Tricia glanced down at the table and took a deep breath. Raising her eyes to look directly at the two men, she replied, "I did of course."

Staring at Tricia, Booth repeated, "Of course."

Irritated, Tricia glared at Booth, "You don't know what it was like to live in that house! First being smacked around by your no good son-of-bitch husband every time he got a snoot full and then when your son is old enough and big enough he takes over the family tradition. It's a hell of a life, Agent Booth. We don't all get to live in a Brady Bunch family!"

Schooling his face into a blank mask, Booth continued to look at the woman across the table from him.

Annoyed, Gibbs asked, "Why kill your son now, Ms. Van Pelt? What was so different about this time versus any other time?"

Turning her glare to Gibbs' calm face, Tricia answered, "It was one thing for that little thug to beat me, to hurt me; but, when he grabbed Ryan I lost it. I had to draw the line right there. He was hurting my grandbaby and I couldn't let him do that! He'd never touched Ryan before. Never! When he did it I just snapped. I was done. Done. I had to protect my grandson, Agent Gibbs. When he grabbed Ryan and started throwing him around like a rag doll I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a steak knife and ran back out into the living room. I stabbed my son, Agent Gibbs. I killed my son to protect my grandson and I'd do it again."

Making a few notes, Booth asked, "Could you tell us how it all started and the events leading up to your son's death?"

Taking another deep breath and looking notably calmer, Tricia nodded her head and replied, "My son was in over his head with his damn gambling. He said that he owed some guy named Marco a butt load of cash and he didn't have the money. That's no surprise. He never had any of his own money. Didn't have a damn red cent to his name. He was slapping Mary around when I came home. He told me that she didn't have the money and then he demanded that I give him the money. Six thousand dollars, Agent Booth. Six thousand dollars. Hell's bells, if I had six thousand dollars do you think I'd be living paycheck to paycheck? Do you think I'd have to rely on my daughter to help with the bills? Hell no, I didn't have six thousand dollars. He expected me to whistle it up though. When I told him I didn't have it, he started beating me, as if that would conjure up money I didn't have. My grandson came home from the babysitter when all of this mess was happening and Perry turned on him. I don't know if he thought that was going to get him the money or what. Frankly, I think he was on auto-pilot, he was just in such a rage. He grabbed Ryan and started throwing him around and threatening to kill my grandbaby. You don't know what's it like. No one knows what it's like. I just . . . ."

Rubbing at the tears on her cheeks, Tricia continued, "I had to protect my grandbaby, Agent Booth; so, I killed my son. Once he was dead, I panicked. I didn't know what to do; so, I drug his body out to the garage and waited for Mary to come home. When she got home, I had her take Ryan to a hotel for the night and I spent the rest of the night cutting up my son's body, putting him in garbage bags and then I passed out."

Leaning forward on the table between them, Gibbs fiddled with the folder as he studied the woman across from him. Finally asking, "Ms. Van Pelt, earlier you said that Perry was beating on Mary when you cam home, then started taking it out on you. Now you're saying that Mary came home after you killed him and you had her take Ryan to a hotel for the night. Which is it Ms. Van Pelt? Mary was home getting beaten or Mary came home after you killed Perry?

Glaring at the man across from her, Tricia growled, "He was beating on her when I got home. When he started in on me, she ran out of the house. She was terrified of her brother. You don't know the pain he'd caused her in the past. I don't know where she went. She, um, I don't know where she went."

Leaning back against the chair, his arms extended in front of him and his hands resting on the table, Gibbs calmly nodded, "Okay, Perry was beating up Mary when you came home. Perry started on you. Mary ran away. Ryan came home and Perry started out on your grandson then you ran into the kitchen got a knife and stabbed him to death. Do I have that right, Ms. Van Pelt?"

Glowering at the two men, Tricia spat out, "Yeah. Yeah you got it right, Agent Gibbs. Mary left with Ryan and I cut up the body."

Booth, standing up, walked over to the observation window and then leaning against the right side of it, crossed his arms in front of him and looked at the woman on the other side of the table. "You cut up the body by yourself, Tricia? Your daughter didn't help you?"

Shaking her head, Tricia was adamant, "No way. Mary called and said they'd gone to my cousins instead of a hotel. She said she was broke. It's not news in our family that Perry and his no good father were fighters. I told her to stay there with Ryan for a few days while I figured out what to do. I didn't want her to know anything. I couldn't do anything with it that night. I was so drained. I cleaned up the living room and left the body in the garage." She looked up at the two men. "I left it there for a few days until the smell started to get really bad. Then I loaded up the bags into the trunk of my car and I drove to work. I parked at the back of the lot by the dumpsters so that if anyone smelled anything they would think it was coming from there. After work, I hung around the area for hours and after the NEX was closed, I dumped the bags near the dumpsters. Uh, the bags were too heavy for me; so, I dumped them next to the dumpsters. I guess someone was nosey and looked in the bags. I didn't count on that."

Glancing at Booth, Gibbs asked, "So Mary wasn't the one to take the bags to the dumpster?"

Shaking her head, Tricia replied, "No! Absolutely not. It was me. It was all me. I stabbed Perry. I cut up his body. I took the bags to the dumpster. It was just me."

Curious, Booth asked, "Where did you stab your son, Mr. Van Pelt? In the chest? In the stomach? Because of the condition of the body, our examiners haven't been able to determine where he was stabbed. You did a good job of cutting him up. I mean, you're what five feet seven? Did you just swing the knife down and strike him in the chest or did you just kind of fight over the knife and you stabbed him in the stomach? We really need to know how you killed your son, Ms. Van Pelt."

Nodding her head, Tricia responded, "Oh we kind of fought over the knife a little and I stuck the knife in his stomach. He bled out before I could call for help. I had to protect my grandson, Agent Booth. You just don't know what we've been through. I had to do what I had to do and I'd do it again."

Nodding his head, Booth replied, "Okay, I see."

Gibbs, turning his head and frowning at Booth, turned back to look at Tricia and stood up. "Agent Booth and I will be back in a little while."

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Looking through the window of the observation room at the woman on the other side, Gibbs glanced over at Booth. "He was stabbed in the leg with the knife."

Nodding his head, Booth responded, "Exactly."

Staring through the window at Tricia, Ziva asked, "Why lie about where he was stabbed? She has to know where he was stabbed."

Gibbs pursed his lips and nodded his head. Smiling, Booth repeated himself, "Exactly."

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	16. Chapter 16

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Sitting in Booth's office, Gibbs stared at the younger agent as he talked to someone on the phone. Listening to Booth's side of the conversation, Gibbs realized it was from someone who'd done a search of the Van Pelt home. Booth had asked a few questions and then ended the call.

Turning his gaze to Gibbs, Booth smiled, "Well Jethro, we now know for certain that Perry was killed in the household and his body was kept in the garage for awhile." Booth raised his hand and started ticking off the information on his fingers as he related it to Gibbs. "The tools that were used to cut up his body haven't been found. Since there have been two trash pick ups since the murder, with the last one for the Van Pelt neighborhood three days ago I think we can assume that those are gone, unless we get someone to tell us that they did something differently than what we suspect. If they were thrown in the trash they're buried at the landfill by now. No matter what they show on those crime procedurals on television, there's no hope of finding whatever was used. None of the knives in the house have Perry's blood on them; so that was probably thrown away too. All we have is blood evidence from the house and we have some hair from Tricia found in the garbage bags. We have two suspects who claim they killed Perry denying the other had anything to do with it."

Leaning back against his chair, Booth frowned, "I don't believe either of those two women killed that guy."

Shaking his head and scowling, Gibbs replied, "Yeah, I don't either."

Curious, Ziva asked, "If Mary or Tricia didn't do it then the only one left is the boy. Ryan, Trisha's grandson." She looked back and forth between the two men.

Turning his gaze towards Ziva, Gibbs responded with a knowing look on his face, "Yep, that's the only one left." He glanced over at Booth and saw his feelings mirrored in the other agent's face.

Booth nodded his head, "I'm afraid so."

Frowning, Ziva asked, "He is eight years old. Do you think he is strong enough to stab someone to death? Perry would not have just stood there and let the boy stab him. Surely he would have tried to keep the boy from striking him with the knife. Also you suspect Tricia was the one he was beating for the money; I would suspect that she would have been keeping herself between Perry and Ryan."

Shaking his head, Booth responded, "It would have been chaos. Perry beating his sister then his mother and Ryan and maybe his mother jumped into the fray. Dr. Sweets could offer us some insight into this but I know that young boys can certainly get a White Knight Syndrome and try to save the damsel - or in this case - damsels in distress. From what we've seen so far, it wouldn't be out of the question." He glanced over at Gibbs and saw the other man give a nod of agreement.

"Someone ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife then came back into the living room and stabbed Perry. If Tricia had done it the wound would more likely be above the waistline. Ryan is eight and his strike zone would be below the waistline. We know Perry was stabbed in the leg and the blade hit the femoral artery and he bled out. During the ruckus, Perry may not have realized that Ryan had the knife and if he grabbed the kid and was trying to restrain him, Ryan could have jabbed down with the knife. From the evidence Dr. Mallard and Bones have found that scenario fits." He shook his head with a look of sadness on his face. "There are no winners in domestic abuse. Everybody loses and the whole family gets to play the game." He glanced over at his cousin.

Gibbs nodded his head in agreement. "That's a reasonable scenario. Given what we've seen and heard so far, my money is on Ryan. For all kinds of reasons that some of us will never understand Tricia and Mary are doing their best to protect him. The thing is, that their protection may be misplaced." He glanced between Ziva and Booth. "If the scenario occurred the way Booth postulated, a good defense attorney could make an argument for self-defense. The boy felt that his mother and grandmother were in imminent danger. If Perry grabbed Ryan the way Booth put forth, he could have felt his own life was in danger." Gibbs got a thoughtful look on his face and stared past the other agents and out of the window.

Shifting her gaze between Booth and Gibbs, Ziva asked, "Then how do we prove this?"

Sighing, Gibbs replied, "As long as they stick to their stories, we can't. We have two people claiming they did it. We have proof that Perry was killed in the house; but, nothing to point to who killed him. We can put forth all the suppositions that we want, but we may never get to the truth of the matter."

Frowning, Ziva remarked, "We could talk to Ryan."

Shaking his head, Booth replied, "Only with a child advocate present. We can't interrogate anyone as young as Ryan is without a child advocate in the room."

Seeing that Ziva was disturbed at the turn of events, Booth continued, "I do plan to question the boy. I'm just telling you that it's not going to be easy. If he's been told by his mother and grandmother to keep quiet he may do just that."

Turning her gaze to her Boss, Ziva asked, "What about Mary and Tricia?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Gibbs answered, "We'll turn this whole thing over to the DA's office in Chesapeake. It will be up to them whether they want to proceed with the case. Chances are this will be the end of it."

Ziva glanced around Booth's office. Catching sight of the picture of Parker and Christine on the corner of the desk, she responded, "Perry brought all of this upon his own head. He was killed by someone trying to protect themselves. I find it hard to work up any sympathy for him."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth sighed, "This happens more often than I care to think about." Turning his gaze towards Gibbs, Booth tapped his fingers on his desk, "I'm going to press charges against Mary and Tricia and hold them for awhile. I plan to drive back to Chesapeake tomorrow morning to talk to Ryan. You want to come with me?"

Nodding his head, Gibbs replied, "Yeah, might as well."

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That evening, as Booth was eating dinner with Brennan and Christine, Booth looked at the beautiful face of his daughter and sighed.

Brennan, worried about Booth's depressed mood, placed her fork down, "What's wrong Booth?"

Picking up his wine glass, Booth shrugged his shoulders, "It's the case. I told you what I think happened to Perry. It's just so messed up."

Staring at Booth, Brennan placed her hand on his, "Perry Van Pelt may have been the victim; but, clearly he fomented his own destruction."

Snorting, Booth responded, "Yeah, the son of an abuser turns into an abuser and is killed by the people he was abusing. It's a vicious cycle and it's hard to break."

Gripping his hand firmly, Brennan smiled sadly, "You and Jared broke the cycle. Neither of you have ever raised a hand to a loved one. You are the kindest person I know. Perry chose to continue in his father's steps. He didn't have to. He chose to."

"That's the subtle thing about domestic abuse, Bones. People get caught up in a cycle and often they don't know there's a way out." He sighed heavily and looked up, "It would be nice if life could be black and white. Good and bad. It would be so much easier; but, we know that's not reality." He looked at the beautiful woman sitting across from him. "We've both seen more of the bad side of life than most people see in a life time and we both have our own experiences that color the picture on both sides. The good news is that we have each other and we have our beautiful daughter." He smiled.

"And Parker, Booth." Brennan whispered. "And we have Parker. I know you're right. I want there to be just one answer. I look at how far you and Jared have come. I look at the way you grew up. The experience of Sweets and I in the Foster Care System. It would be nice if we could all break the cycle; but, that's not the way it works."

Staring into Brennan's bright blue eyes, Booth spoke, "I love you Bones. I'd never hurt you or Christine or Parker. You know that. Never." Then trying to lighten the mood, Booth laughed and winked at her, "Besides you'd probably kill my ass if I tried."

Smiling, Brennan replied, "Well, I wouldn't kill you; but, I would certainly make sure you saw the error of your ways."

Pulling her hand towards him, Booth leaned forward and kissed her fingers, then raising his eyes towards hers, he smiled, "I love you Bones. You keep me sane."

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	17. Chapter 17

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Arriving at NCIS headquarters the next morning, Booth noticed that Gibbs wasn't waiting in front of the building. Giving a quick call on his cell, McGee picked up the call, "Agent Gibb's phone, Agent McGee speaking."

"McGee, it's Booth. Is Gibbs around?"

"He's up with the director, Agent Booth. He should be back shortly. Do you want to come up?" McGee replied.

"Sure." Booth responded. He'd never been in the building before; so, he thought it might be interesting to see where his cousin worked.

Entering the lobby of the building, he signed in with the guards at the front desk and received clearance to go up to Gibbs' floor. Booth entered the elevator with a younger woman dressed in Goth style clothes.

Noticing that Booth pushed the button for the third floor and curious, Abby turned to Booth and asked, "I'm going to that floor also, may I help you find someone there?"

Smiling, Booth nodded his head, "I'm looking for Special Agent Jethro Gibbs."

Cheerfully, Abby responded, "Oh, I can take you right to him." Having caught a glimpse of Booth at the Jeffersonian, Abby asked, "You're working on a case with Gibbs, aren't you? You're Agent Booth with the FBI right?"

Nodding his head, Booth answered, "I am."

Trying to squeeze out more information, Abby continued, "We usually work with Agent Fornell when we work with the FBI."

Aiming his charm smile at Abby, Booth agreed, "Yes, I know."

Arriving at the third floor, the elevator door opened, Abby exited the car and waited for Booth, "Come on, I'll take you to his desk."

Following the inquisitive young woman, Booth took in his surroundings in the open brightly lit room. Spying Ziva and DiNozzo, Booth lifted his hand, "Hey, I'm looking for Jethro, McGee said he was with the Director. Is he back yet?"

Looking up from her computer monitor, Ziva smiled, "Agent Booth! Gibbs isn't back yet, but, he should be back momentarily."

Walking over to DiNozzo's desk, Abby leaned against it and asked, "Why isn't Agent Fornell working with us this time? Is he alright?"

Nodding his head, Booth replied, " As far as I know Fornell is fine. Since Dr. Brennan was asked to consult on this case and we're partners, the case was given to me. I'm sure that you'll still be working with Fornell on other cases."

Her curiosity still not satisfied, Abby asked, "How long have you worked with Dr. Brennan? Dr. Mallard says she's the best anthropologist in the country."

Rubbing the top of this left hand, Booth grinned as he answered, " I'm sure he did. We've worked together for a little more than seven years."

Glancing at Ziva, Abby continued quizzing the the FBI agent, "Have you ever met Gibbs before you started working on this case?"

Folding his arms across his chest, Booth smiled, "No, I haven't. He knew my father though."

Her curiosity hitting a high, Abby asked, "Oh gosh, really? We're they in the Marines together?"

Shaking his head, Booth replied, "No, Jethro is my father's cousin."

Walking down the staircase,Gibbs noticed the stunned look on Abby's face and the amused look on Booth's. He called out "Booth, give me a minute and we can go."

Looking up and over at Gibbs, Abby opened her mouth and then closed it. Turning towards Booth, she smiled, "I have to go."

Nodding his head, Booth responded, "Nice meeting you."

Watching Abby leave, DiNozzo moved his gaze to Gibbs who walked towards his desk, "So, Agent Booth was just telling us that you're his father's cousin."

Ignoring DiNozzo, Gibbs grabbed his gun and badge from this desk. Walking back to where Booth was waiting, Gibbs smiled, "Ready to go?"

Nodding his head, Booth turned and walked towards the elevator, amused at the facial expressions on the younger agents faces and the way Gibbs had ignored them both.

Gibbs, shook his head as he entered the elevator car behind Booth.

As the doors closed, Gibbs smiled at Booth, "You do know that's going to drive them nuts, right?"

Grinning, Booth punched the lobby button, "Oh, I'm counting on it, Cuz!"

Laughing, Gibbs shook his head, "You're as bad as my old man."

Staring at the elevator doors, Booth replied, "It should be interesting to see if they can research us well enough to find the connection."

Shaking his head, Gibbs smiled, "Yeah, I'll let you know how that turns out."

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On the way to Chesapeake, Gibbs turned to the younger agent, "So, have you give any thought as to how we can get Hank and my father together?"

Glancing at Gibbs and then back at the road, Booth nodded his head, "Yeah, I've thought about it a little. It should be something simple. I don't really want to wait until Christmas, but I was thinking of that as an example since my grandfather always has Christmas dinner with us. If we could come up with something like that you could bring Jackson."

Rubbing his neck, Gibbs shook his head, "I'd have to think about how we could get that to work. I'm not sure I could get Dad to come to your house. I'm afraid that the minute I tell him it's at your house he'll say no. He doesn't have anything against you; it's just that he's lost or let go of all of his ties with his family and I don't think he wants to renew any of them. He didn't have much family on grandfather's side of the family and when their Dad died and Hank cut ties to him I think it broke his heart not that he'd admit that, of course! I just don't think he wants to be reminded of happier times."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth responded, "That's too bad. You are invited over for Thanksgiving and Christmas by the way. Well, actually you're invited over anytime you want to come. It's an open invitation."

Smiling, Gibbs replied, "Thanks. I may take you up on Christmas."

Studying a semi that was weaving on the road ahead of them, Booth sighed, "I hate weavers."

Coming up on the truck, Booth got into the left hand lane and gunned it. Passing the truck quickly, he moved the SUV back into the right hand lane and slowed back down to four miles over the speed limit and re-engaged the cruise control. "I've had more than one close call with weaving semis, now I just past them as quickly as I can."

Nodding his head, Gibbs returned the conversation back to their elders, "I could get Dad to come down for a visit and take him out to dinner. You could invite Hank out to eat and accidentally run into us at a restaurant."

Thinking about it, Booth smiled, "Well, that's pretty simple and could probably work. We'll have to work out the logistics."

Noticing Booth yawn, Gibbs asked, "Late night?"

Slowly blowing air through his lips, Booth nodded his head, "Yeah, Christine had an upset stomach last night and cried for hours. I think she just had one of those 24-hour bugs. She seemed okay this morning."

Staring at Booth's tired demeanor, Gibbs frowned, "Yeah, I remember when Kelly was a baby. Those stomach viruses can be pretty nasty from both ends. "

Booth chuckled, "That's the truth! I think she picked it up at Day Care which brings its own challenges since Bones is already distrustful of Day Care and this didn't exactly help!"

Smiling in understanding, the older agent commiserated, "Yeah, Shannon was a stay at home mom; but, I think that a lot of the reason she decided not to go back to work after Kelly was born was because of how she felt about day care."

The two men were silent for the next few miles, then Booth looked over at the older man and debated the question that had come to mind. "Did they ever find the guys that killed your wife and daughter, Jethro?"

Gibbs glanced at the younger man and then turned his eyes back to the passing scenery. In an even tone he responded, "Pedro Hernandez? Yeah, I heard that he was taken out by a gunshot to the head a few years later."

"Really?" Booth asked. "Sniper?"

"That's what I heard." Gibbs replied noncommitally. Turning to look out the passenger window, he repeated softly. "That's what I heard . . ." With a thoughtful expression Booth nodded and returned his gaze to the road ahead.

The two men passed the next several miles in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Let's continue to think about how we can get Pops and Jackson together," Booth broke the silence, "and I'll talk it over with Bones. It's going to have to be really underhanded to work though. I do like your idea of the restaurant." Yawning again, Booth placed his hand over his mouth, "I guess I'm more tired than I thought."

Concerned, Gibbs noted the sign for the rest area a mile ahead and asked the other agent, "Do you want me to drive? We've still got about an hour ahead of us?"

Glancing at the rest area sign and then over towards his cousin, Booth turned on the right turn signal to pull into the rest area ahead, "Yeah, I would."

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We really appreciate reviews. Thank you.


	18. Chapter 18

Due to a family emergency, "Castor and Pollux" must go on hiatus for a week or two. We will start updating this story as soon as it is possible. Thank you for your patience. We really appreciate it. (Penny / Lenora)

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there,

I do not sleep I am a 1,000 winds that blow

I am the diamond glints on snow

I am the sun on ripened grain

I am the gentle autumn rain

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled light

I am the soft star that shines at night

Do not stand at my grave and cry I am not there; I did not die.

- Anon


	19. Chapter 19

We would like to thank you for your encouraging reviews, the favors and the follows. We just love the fact that you are still reading our story.

We would like to thank everyone for the very nice PMs. Sometimes our lives must pause and we appreciate that you were considerate and kind about it.

We don't own Bones or NCIS, not even a smidgen.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Loosening his grip on the armrest as Gibbs pulled into the parking lot for the Chesapeake Police Station, Booth turned to Gibbs, "My God, where the hell did you learn to drive?"

Smirking, Gibbs glanced over at the other man, then pulled into a parking space. "Too fast for you Booth?"

Shaking his head, Booth watched as Gibbs turned off the ignition and asked, "Why the hell aren't you drowning in a flood of speeding tickets?"

Reaching down and pulling his badge off his belt, Gibbs held it in front of Booth's face.

Laughing, Booth pushed the badge back towards Gibbs and reached out his hand, palm up. "Yeah, I've done that myself, still, you are never driving my vehicle again, ever."

Placing the keys in his cousin's outstretched hand, Gibbs chuckled, "You were too tired to drive. You said so yourself."

Guffawing, Booth opened the truck door, "Well, if I was sleepy before I'm wide awake now! The next time Bones says I have a lead foot, I'll let her take a ride with you."

Gibbs exited the truck and walked towards the main entrance. Turning to the man walking next to him, he said, "If that shook you up, you sure don't want to go for a ride with Ziva!"

Booth glanced at the cellphone in his hand, "Tricia's cousin said he'd bring Ryan here. Mr. Cutter said he'd get a child advocate to meet us here."

Shrugging his shoulders, Gibbs responded, "It's not like we didn't expect that."

Approaching the door, Booth stopped, "You want to take the lead or do you want me to?"

Thinking it over, Gibbs shrugged his shoulders, "You go ahead and I'll jump in if I need to."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sitting in the interrogation room, Booth and Gibbs sat across a table from Ryan Van Pelt, his grandmother's cousin, Harmon Cutter and the Child Advocate, Myrna Winters.

Leaning on his folded arms on the table, Booth smiled at Ryan, "Do you remember me, Ryan?"

Nodding his head, the boy smiled, "Sure you're FBI and" pointing to Gibbs, "he's NCIS."

Nodding his head, Booth agreed, "That's right. Agent Gibbs and I would like to talk to you about your Uncle Perry. Is that alright?"

Solemnly, Ryan nodded his head.

Glancing at the child advocate and then back to the boy, Booth asked, "Do you know where your mother and grandmother are?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Ryan shook his head and looked down at his folded hands.

Looking intently at the boy, Booth explained, "Your mother and grandmother are in Washington D.C. They came to me and told me what happened to your Uncle Perry."

Jerking his head up, Ryan cried out, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt him. It was an accident." Placing his hands over his face, Ryan started to weep, "It was an accident."

Sighing, Booth glanced at Harmon Cutter, "Do you know what happened?"

Harmon, rubbing Ryan's shoulder, responded, "No, not really. Tricia said she wanted me to stay out of it. She just wanted me to watch after Ryan."

Watching Ryan struggle to control his crying, Gibbs asked, "Would you like to tell us what happened Ryan so we can see your side of it?"

Hiccupping, Ryan pulled up the hem of his t-shirt and wiped his nose. Myrna, reached into her purse, found a packet of Kleenex and handed it to Ryan. Blowing his nose and then putting the Kleenex on the table, the very young man stared at Gibbs, "Am I in trouble?"

Shaking his head, Gibbs replied, "Why don't you tell us what happened?"

Nodding his head, the boy blew his nose again, "I came home and Uncle Perry was beating my Grandma. He was hurting her real bad. She was crying and asking him to stop and he wouldn't. When he saw me, he grabbed me and hit me in the chest. Grandma screamed and tried to make him stop; but, he just laughed and said he needed money and if this is what it took to get it, then this is what it took."

"Grandma jumped on him and he threw me across the room. Then he started beating Grandma again and threatened to break her arm. I got really scared and I ran into the kitchen and got a knife. I thought he would leave us alone if he saw me with the knife; but, he got madder. It was really crazy!" The young boy looked up at the two men. "He threw Grandma on the ground and jumped at me. I had the knife . . . He . . . the knife went into his leg when he jumped at me. I didn't mean to cut him; but, the knife was sticking in his leg and he started screaming at me and he pulled the knife out and then he fell down and there was lots of blood and he started to cry. He was screaming for me to help him. I wanted to help him but then he stopped crying and he just lay there and Grandma said he went to sleep and we couldn't help him anymore." Ryan scrubbed his hands over his face.

Watching closely as young man's breathing returned to normal, Booth asked, "Where was your mother Ryan?"

Wiping his hand across his face, Ryan looked down, "Uncle Perry had hit her really hard and she was asleep in her room. Grandma was scared that Mom might need to go to the hospital; but, she woke up. She had a really bad bump on the back of her head and her eye was kind of bruised and swelling. Mom said that Uncle Perry knocked her down and she hit the floor too hard. She was sorry she couldn't protect me from Uncle Perry. It wasn't her fault. She was sleeping. Am I in trouble?"

Exhaling deeply, Booth shook his head, "I don't think so Ryan. I need to talk to someone else about it; but, I really don't think so."

Nodding his head, Ryan asked, "Why was Uncle Perry so mean?"

Glancing at Booth and then the young boy, Gibbs responded, "He was afraid of some very bad men, Ryan. He wanted your Grandma to help him; but, she couldn't and he just took his fear out on his family. Do you understand?"

Nodding his head, Ryan looked at Gibbs, "Mom said that Uncle Perry hung out with bad people and Uncle Perry shouldn't have done that."

Nodding his head, Gibbs smiled sadly, "Your mother was right. He should have stayed away from the bad people."

Clearing his throat, Ryan asked, "Can I see my Mom and my Grandma now?"

Looking over at the boys's distant cousin, Booth responded, "Let us talk to a few people and we'll call you tomorrow." Turning his gaze back towards Ryan, Booth smiled, "We'll try to get you to see them as soon as possible."

Wiping his nose, Ryan responded, "It's my birthday next week. Mom said we might go to Virginia Beach to play in the ocean, we might even get to do some crabbing. This is a good time of year to go crabbing, y'know?"

Smiling, Booth nodded his head, "Yes, it is Ryan, yes it is. That sounds like a real nice way to spend your birthday."

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Leaving the police station, Booth walked over to his truck and leaned against it. Staring at the ground, Booth shook his head. Letting out a heavy breath, he looked over at Gibbs and sighed, "That could have been me you know."

Nodding his head, Gibbs replied, "Yeah, I know." Clapping the other man on the back of his shoulder, he continued, "I know, Seeley. I know. I wish . . ."

Straightening up, Booth looked at the other man in the eye, " Jethro, it's okay. Every once in awhile a case just hits a bit close to home." Nodding at his cousin, he took a deep breath, "Okay, let's go. I'll talk to Caroline Julian, she's the prosecutor we use with the U.S. Attorney's office. I'll have her talk to the DA in Chesapeake."

Nodding his head, Gibbs remarked, "I know who she is. She's fair."

Smiling and nodding his head, Booth responded, "Yeah, she is."

Grinning, Gibbs held his hand out, palm up, "Want me to drive home?"

Booth shook his head at his cousin, "Really? You really think I'd let you drive? You must be crazy as hell."

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Gibbs was sitting in the basement, staring at the ribs of the boat. Holding a glass of scotch in his hand, he sipped the drink. He heard the door to the basement open and looked up to see Tobias Fornell making his way down the stairs.

Slowly walking down the stairs, the Agent smiled at the man below, "Are you ever going to tell me how you get these damn boats out of here?"

Gibbs shrugged as he answered, "Nope."

Shaking his head, Fornell remarked, "Maybe you can put it in your will. You can't take a secret like that with you to your grave. It isn't right."

Gibbs smiled at the man who had become his friend over the years, "Tell you what, I'll leave the secret for Abby. It will be up to her if she wants to share it with you."

Laughing, Fornell shook his head, "Okay, I'm going to outlive you just so I can get the answer."

Nodding his head, Gibbs smiled turned to a frown, "What brings you here?"

Rummaging through Gibbs jelly jars, the other man dumped some finishing nails out of a relatively clean jar, gave it a quick wipe with his fingers and poured some scotch into it. Sipping the drink, he sat down on a stool and studied his husband-in-law. "So, the boy killed his uncle."

Sighing, Gibbs responded, "Booth took this case pretty hard. It hit too close to home for him."

Fornell looked at the drink in his hand, "Because he has a daughter. Yeah, that makes it rough."

Looking at Fornell, Gibbs responded, "Yeah. You know everyone has a family member that's a bastard. I had one. The guy beat his wife and kids unmercifully. I tried to help the situation and for awhile he walked the straight and narrow; but, I got transferred overseas and I lost touch. I found out later the jerk got worse. A hell of a lot worse. He terrorized his family. I just wish that I could have done something to stop it; but, it was out of my hands."

Curious, Fornell asked, "So what happened to this family member?"

Staring at his friend, Gibbs responded, "Nothing. Not for quite awhile. The mother left and then the jerk's father found out what was going on and took the kids away from him. Two boys. Those boys had to put up with a lot of crap, a lot of pain before they were rescued. It makes me sick to think about it."

Finishing his drink, Fornell asked, "So what happened to the jerk's kids?"

Smiling, Gibbs answered, "They did okay. They're doing okay now. They both have families and they broke the cycle."

Placing his empty glass on the workbench, the FBI Agent exclaimed, "Thank God."

Nodding his head, Gibbs replied, "Yeah. The oldest boy really makes me proud. He's really done a lot with his life. I wish I'd had a son like that. Kelly would have loved having a brother like him."

Smiling, Fornell commented, "Yeah, Booth is a pretty nice guy."

Laughing, Gibbs finished his drink, "You're a nosey son-of-a-bitch, you know that?"

Laughing, Fornell responded, "That's what my ex-wives keep telling me."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooo

So, we have a solution to the case; but, this story actually started out to find out about the relationship between Jackson Gibbs and Hank Booth . . . We'll be back with the rest of the story.

We really would like you to let us know what you think of our story. We love reviews. They give us incentive to write. Hint, Hint.


	20. Chapter 20

We want to thank you for your kind reviews. We appreciate the time you take to let us know what you think of our story.

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Oooooooooooooooooooooo

Booth laughed as Christine reached out and grabbed ahold of the tapioca laden spoon just as he got it up to her mouth. Realizing that he was in a losing battle of trying to keep her clean as well as himself he heard a knock at the front door. Calling out for Brennan and getting no response, Booth made sure Christine was secure in her high chair and went to open the front door, surprised to find his cousin standing on the doorstep.

Smiling, Booth stepped back, "Jethro! Come on in. Christine and I are having a contest to see who can get the messiest while she's eating."

Laughing, Gibbs walked into the house and closed the door behind him. Following Booth into the kitchen, he watched as the younger man used a wash cloth to wipe the little girl's face and hands. Booth picked up a spoon and tried to get Christine to eat some of the tapioca. Keeping her eyes on the strange man who had walked into the kitchen, she opened her mouth for the spoonful of food. Booth laughed, "Oh, I see how it is, Missy! Company manners, eh?"

Gibbs chuckled as he took a seat at the island. Placing a tubular container on the countertop, he noted, "Maybe she's just hungry."

Glancing at Gibbs and then back at the toddler, Booth explained, "I think it's her grandfather's feeding her snacks before dinner. I keep telling him that Bones has a schedule for Christine; but, he likes to eat ice cream in the afternoon and he shares his bowl with Christine and that kills her appetite."

Watching as the child grabbed at the tapioca filled spoon, Gibbs commented, "Sounds like you need a new babysitter."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth sighed, "Oh, let's not even go down that road! You don't know what you're saying. Besides, Max is convenient for those times when we get called out on cases at odd hours and we need someone to watch her. Max is available most of the time; so, we have to go with that. Unfortunately, he likes to spoil her and Bones is getting a little anxious about it."

Observing the diligent father manage to get his daughter to actually eat the pudding, Gibbs spoke, "I've been doing some research about the accident that killed Hank and Jackson's father. I found out something very interesting. You interested?"

Looking over at Gibbs, Booth responded, "Sure, what did you find?"

Picking up the tube, the older man opened it and pulled out a chart. "This is a chart of the upper Chesapeake Bay that was issued for the season of the accident. The USGS used to publish new charts each year and sailors and boaters were expected to check advisories from the Coast Guard and USGS for any updates. Most sailors would make a set of charts last for a couple of seasons although that wasn't suggested. Of course, now updates can be found online but in those days, up-to-date information wasn't as easily accessed although most marinas would post advisories on a bulletin board in a marina store or near the fuel pumps. This set of charts shows underwater wrecks and obstructions, permanent buoys and shipping lane. It was issued in March of the year the accident occured."

Seeing that he had Booth's undivided attention, Gibbs continued,"I also managed to get a copy of the accident report that was filed with the State of Maryland. Every boating accident has to be reported by Federal law. I used that to find out when and where the accident happened. Comparing the charts they would have had available to use and the reports on file for that season showed something very interesting."

Leaning away from his daughter, Booth frowned, "What did you find?"

Nodding his head, Gibbs spread the chart on the countertop, "There was a wreck of a sailboat earlier in the week. It wouldn't have been listed on the charts that Joseph Booth used. Of course today's sailors could just check the website for information and updates. I think Jackson was following the correct course and unknown to him, he ran right over the underwater wreck. The bottom of their boat must have hit part of the wreck. From the story that Hank told you, it might have been the mast of the boat that had gone down. I think that's what holed their boat."

Surprised, Booth shook his head, "Wow. That would explain the accident. So your father probably wasn't to blame for the accident. No one was responsible, just the luck of the draw that they were in the area that day."

Nodding his head, Gibbs studied the map, "What do you want to do with this info? Do you think it would do any good to show it to Hank?"

Staring at his daughter, Booth sighed, "Pops is a fair man, Jethro. If his brother wasn't responsible for the wreck then I think he'd like to know that. Do you think I could borrow the charts and show them to him?"

Rolling the chart and report and sliding them back into the tube, Gibbs turned towards his cousin, "Yeah, I think that would be a good idea."

Brennan, entered the room carrying a laundry basket filled with clean, folded clothes, placed the basket down on the table and smiled, "It's nice to see you again, Agent Gibbs."

Smiling, Gibbs responded, "Since we're related through Booth, how about calling me Jethro or Gibbs. Your choice."

Nodding her head, Brennan replied, "Yes, of course. I'm called Temperance by my family although I also answer to Bren or Brennan."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows and looked sideways at Booth as he asked, "And Bones?"

Glancing at Booth then back at the older man, Brennan smiled, "Only Booth and his son Parker are allowed to call me that."

Nodding his head he picked up the chart tube and said, "I was just telling Booth that I may have found out why the accident occurred that killed Hank and Jackson's father."

Curious, Brennan responded, "Was it an underwater obstruction?"

His brow wrinkling, Gibbs answered, "Why yes, how did you know?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Brennan explained, "What else could it have been?"

Laughing Booth stared at Gibbs' speechlessness, "Bones is a genius, Jethro. You'll get used to it."

Smiling Gibbs laughed, "I see I'll have to."

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After giving Christine her much needed bath and putting her into her crib, Brennan joined Booth in their bedroom. She found him lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She walked over to the chair near the closet, sat down and removed her boots. After placing the boots in the closet, she walked over to the dresser and retrieved a pair of pajamas and carried them towards the bathroom.

Booth followed her with his eyes as she got ready for bed. Clearing his throat he said, "Bones, I think I'm going to take tomorrow off and go see Pops. I'd like to talk to him about the new information that Jethro found about the boating accident."

Stopping, Brennan watched the conflicted look on his face, "What's wrong, Booth? You seem to be worried about something. Are you concerned that Hank will be upset that you and Jethro looked into this?"

Sitting up, Booth nodded his head, "You know Pops is 85 years old. Do you think it's a mistake to interfere in his feud with his brother now? I mean, I don't want to do anything to upset him. He's happy and even though Jethro would like them to get together I'm starting to worry that if this goes poorly and Jackson refuses to have anything to do with Pops after all of these years, that it will break Pop's heart. I . . . I just don't want to make him unhappy when he only has a few years left. I just want to do the right thing."

Walking over to the bed, Brennan sat down and stretched out her arm. Gently rubbing his shoulder, she responded softly, "Booth, I'm not really the one to talk to about things like this. Look how long I went before I talked to my own father and brother. But you know Hank. You'll know the right thing to do."

Chuckling, Booth shook his head, "I'm not an expert in relationships either. I didn't talk to my old man for over twenty years before he died. I haven't talked to my mother for over twenty four years and then she shows up in my life and I give her away at her wedding. I just want to do the right thing."

Pulling her legs up onto the bed and sliding down next to him, she rolled over on her side. Moving her hand to lie on his chest, she said, "I've heard you and Hank talk about making difficult decisions and although I'm not sure what good it does, I think that Hank would suggest that you pray about what you're thinking of doing and how you should say it. It seems to work for you most of the time."

Snorting, Booth turned to look at the woman lying next to him, "Bones!" He shook his head. "I. . . Wow. I didn't expect to hear that from you!" He watched as she gave a slight smile and shrugged her shoulders.

"I can be surprising." She responded.

"Now there's an understatement." He laughed.

Sighing, Brennan looked at the man she loved, "Our families have spent so much of our lives avoiding each other and look at the pain that has caused so many people. We know that life is short and it can turn on a dime. We see that every day in the cases that we work. Heck, we see the evidence of that just watching the news." She looked into his eyes and gave a small smile as he reached over and wiped a tear from her cheek. "You hated Jethro for a long time before you even met him and then discovered that what you thought you knew about him wasn't even true. You actually like him and I know you're happy that he's in your life now. Wouldn't it be nice if Hank had that opportunity with Jackson, Booth? It might fail; but, at least you will have given him the option."

Swallowing, Booth pulled her into his arms, "Hey, when did you get to be such an expert on this kind of thing?"

Smiling into his chest, she snuggled her body up against his and lifted her face to his, kissing him.

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	21. Chapter 21

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Gibbs glanced at the caller ID as he grabbed for the ringing phone on the coffee table. Hitting the on button and putting the phone to his ear, he rolled onto his back then raised his left arm over his head to shield his eyes from the light streaming through the front window. "Gibbs." He heard his voice break with the first use of the morning.

"It's Booth, Jethro. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you! What're you doing sleeping in this morning, you Jarhead? Keep this up and next thing you know people will be calling you a WIMP." Booth chided his cousin.

In one fluid movement, Gibbs gave a low chuckle as he tucked the phone between his shoulder and his ear and rolled over to grab his wristwatch in the disarray on the table in front of the couch. "Yeah, Grunt, I was up past four balls last night writing your reports so don't give me grief this morning!"

Giving an answering chuckle, Booth continued, "I just wanted to let you know that I'm headed up to see Pops. Bones and I talked after you left last night and I decided that it was foolish to put this off. I'd only find more excuses to let it slide. I have the charts with me and a copy of the advisory that was issued after the sailboat went down."

Swinging his feet to the floor and rubbing his free hand through his hair, Gibbs pushed himself to this feet as he asked, "How do you think he'll react?" Padding barefoot into the kitchen to push the button on the coffee maker, stretching his shoulders back and cracked his neck from side to side. "Any idea?"

"He's a good man, Jethro. I think that he has some regrets over this grudge, but we'll see." Booth checked the rear view and side mirrors in preparation for changing lanes. "Truth be told, I'm guessing it will take him a little time to process the information, but that he'll want to try to heal the relationship. Are you going to talk to Jackson about it?"

Pursing his lips and blowing his breath out, Gibbs shook his head. "I have to think about how best to handle that. Give me a call after you talk to Hank and we'll see what our next move should be, eh?"

"That's an alpha mike foxtrot to you, Jethro! As you were, Jarhead! You can go back to checking your eyelids for light leaks." Booth laughed out loud and moved to disconnect the call on his Bluetooth, just catching Gibbs' responding "Oorah!"

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Finding his grandfather in the games room, Booth walked over to where Hank was sitting and smiled, "Hey Pops. I thought I'd come by and see how you're doing."

Hank looked up from his dominoes with a look of concern, "Seeley? What are you doing here? It's not the weekend, are Tempe and Christine okay?"

Patting his grandfather's shoulder, Booth smiled, "Pops! Don't worry! Everyone's fine. I just decided that I wanted to come and visit you that's all."

Still worried, Hank nodded his head. Turning his head to the other men at the table, he told his friends, "Sorry, boys. I'm going to have a visit with my grandson."

Shaking off the helping hand that Booth offered, Hank stood with a little effort, unhooked his cane from the back of the chair and used it to point towards the doorway. "Why don't we go to my room for a while."

Nodding his head, Booth smiled, "Actually, I thought maybe we'd go out to lunch. My treat if your up to it."

Giving his grandson a puzzled look, Hank shook his head. "If I'm up to it? Are you sure Tempe and Christine are okay, Seeley? He acknowledged the nod of affirmation from his grandson. "Let me just grab a jacket and we can head over to the that diner you like down the road."

As he followed his grandfather down the hall, Booth studied how frail the man who'd raised him was getting. Biting his lower lip, he reigned in his emotions.

Hank walked over to the closet and grabbed his jacket off the hook inside the door. Turning he noted that his grandson had taken a seat on the small couch in the sitting area of his room. Hank walked across the room and sat in the wing back chair across from his grandson.

"Hey Pops, do you remember me telling you I had a case I was going to work on with Jethro Gibbs?"

Frowning, Hank replied, "Of course I do. I'm not senile yet. Did you talk to him about your father? Did you find out if your father was lying to you about why Jethro went overseas?"

Leaning back against the couch, Booth sighed, "Yeah, I talked to him. It turns out my old man was a liar as well as a mean drunk. Jethro was sent to South Korea because the Marines needed him there. He didn't ask for the transfer. All of these years I hated Jethro and now I find out that the guy isn't what I thought he was, what Dad led me to believe about him . . . . You know Pops it's time like this that I find it really hard to practice turning the other cheek. It's just that sometimes it seems like that sorry bastard did everything he could to destroy my childhood. I know he was an alcohlic, but sometimes it seems like I'm letting that be an excuse for his actions, for the things he did."

Booth leaned forward on the couch, staring down at his hands. "Jethro told me he got Dad to some A.A. meetings. I guess that was the time when things were a little better at home, before Mom left, before Jethro was transferred overseas. You know, just from experience with G.A. I know that Dad never did the twelve steps. At least he never did them with me! Pops, I know he was your son and you feel responsible for some of this but, you know and I know that Dad's alcoholism was not your fault anymore than my gambling addiction is anyone's fault. It's just a fact."

He looked up at the older man sitting across from him. "Sometimes, Pops's, it's just more difficult than others. Now I find out that I let him influence how I felt about the only family I have left in this world besides you and Jared, well and Bones and the baby. It makes me so mad." Giving a sad smile, he continued, "And it makes me sad, Pops. Sad that he was such a pitiful man and that he was so scared that he had to ruin the lives of everyone around him."

Sighing, Hank reached across and patted his grandson's knee, "Son, I'm sorry you had a father like that; but, we can't undo the past. We have to live with the hand we were dealt. I'm glad you straightened out that thing with Jethro. You're right, you don't have much family left and it's worse for Jethro. As far as I know, besides his father, we're all he has left too. He had a wife and daughter; but, they were murdered. I tried to keep track of him even though Jackson and I weren't talking to each other. I don't know if you know that I wrote to Jethro occasionally and he wrote back. I should have made an effort to get to know him better than I did."

He gave a derisive laugh, "But, our lives get busy, don't they? We take people for granted, we think that we have time to say things. To catch up." Hank shook his head as he looked across at the young man sitting on the couch. Booth nodded with a sad smile on his face."You think we would learn, wouldn't you? We don't though. We get better for awhile but we get busy and we know that they are busy. That's what happened with me and Jethro. I got distracted and he had a busy life. I just never wanted to intrude into his life. I can see it was a mistake."

The two men sat quietly for awhile, each lost in their own thoughts. Hank looked over at his grandson, "After his wife and daughter were murdered I think I wrote to him one more time; but, he just seemed to want to shut himself away from what little family he had left and I sure didn't want to force him to keep in contact with me. I should have though. I realize now that I wasn't fair to him. I knew he was grieving and I should have kept writing to him to remind him that he had more than his father; but, well . . ."

Seeing the sadness on his grandfather's face, Booth shook his head, "I guess we've all made mistakes, Pop; but, I think we can finally fix some of them. I know I've started to. I worked a case with Jethro and I really liked doing it. He's smart and he's a good investigator. Bones likes him and I think we're going to try to stay in touch. Bones thinks Christine could use an older relative as a role model. She has her Uncle Russ and Uncle Jared," Booth smiled at the warmth that came over him when he spoke of his family. "And of course there's you and Max. Temperance had this really long anthropological reason; but, what it boiled down to is we don't have very many relatives and Bones doesn't want us lose contact with any of them."

Clearing his throat, Booth stared at his grandfather, "Any of them Pops."

Puzzled, Hank responded, "Okay?"

Holding up the cylinder he had brought with him, Booth opened one end and then pulled out the charts it held. "It's like this, Pops. I want to talk to you about the boat wreck that killed your father."

Irritated, Hank held up his hands, "Son, I don't want to talk about that anymore. It doesn't change anything. My father is still dead and hashing it over and over is just painful to me."

Tapping the chart against his knee, Booth frowned, "Pops, what I want to talk to you about isn't a rehash. I have some new information about that wreck and I think you need to know about it."

Staring at the chart in Booth's hand, Hank asked, "What new information?"

Seeing his grandfather appeared willing to listen, Booth opened the chart. "This is a chart of the upper Chesapeake Bay around the time of the accident. It would have been like the one your father had on his boat." Pointing to a small red x on the chart, Booth continued, "This is where your wreck happened. You can see that the chart shows that it's open water and should have allowed for smooth sailing."

Putting on his glasses, Hank stared at the chart and the small x. Shrugging his shoulders, Hank asked, "And?"

Nodding his head, Booth pulled a second chart from underneath and laid it on top. "Now this chart came out a year after your accident. If you look where the little red x is you'll see that it shows an underwater obstruction. A sail boat sank in that spot a week earlier. A week before you and Jackson and your Dad went out on the bay. Given the depth of the water and the size of the boat that went down, the sailboat's mast would have been just below the water. When Jackson drove the boat over that spot, the bottom of your boat was probably holed by the mast. In all likelihood, that would have been what caused the wreck and ultimately the death of your father. Jackson didn't do anything wrong. It was an accident Pops. The whole thing was an accident."

Swallowing, Hank stared at the chart and blew air through his partially closed lips. Standing, he walked over to the bathroom, entered the room and closed the door behind him. Booth, watching his grandfather struggle with his emotions until the door was safely shut behind him, rolled up the charts and put them back in the cylinder. Sighing, Booth leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to control his own emotions.

After awhile, Hank came back out of the bathroom and sat back down on his couch. "Son, I'm glad you showed this to me. I've been a fool. All this time, I blamed Jackson for something that he wasn't responsible for. I just . . . I don't know what to do with this though. I'm pretty sure that Jackson won't talk to me even if I try. We've been at war with each other too long, almost seventy years. That's a lot of anger to overcome, Shrimp."

Swallowing, Booth leaned forward, "You know, Pops, I've hated Jethro since I was nine years old. I've talked with my sponsor about it. I've done the steps. There have been times when I think it's better, then something happens and it all comes back. That's thirty three years of hate; but now . . . because of the case I worked on with him, I talked to him and I found out the truth. And now . . . well now he's part of my family again. I think if I can overcome my hatred for Jethro then Jackson might do that too."

Booth looked his grandfather in the eye. "You know what my sponsor said to me when I talked to him about it, Pops?" Watching his grandfather shake his head, Booth continued. "He told me to pray about it." Giving a low chuckle, he said, "Pops! Even Bones told me to pray about it!" Booth shook his head at Hank's response, "I know! Pops, even if Jackson won't forgive you, at least you would have the satisfaction that you tried. Wouldn't you like to try to bury the hatchet? If you want to then let me know, Jethro and I have talked it over and we've decided that if you're game we'll try to help you and Jackson make up. It's up to you though. We won't force the issue. It's your decision."

Patting his grandson's knee, Hank replied, "Let me think it over Shrimp. I'll let you know what I decide in a few days."

Placing his hand over Hank's hand, Booth squeezed it lightly. "Sure thing Pops. Just let me know what you want to do. Now, how about you grab your jacket and we head over and get some lunch at that diner? I'll even share my French Fries with you if you want some!"

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We would appreciate it if you would let us know what you think of our story. We appreciate all reviews, even one word reviews.

A/N: definitions of military slang used in this chapter can be found in wiktionary. FFN doesn't like it if you mention internet addresses; so, I can't give you the address.

[We've been around the military for many years; so, you just knew we had to show off sometime.]


	22. Chapter 22

No, we don't own Bones or NCIS. We just borrowed it for a little while.

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Concentrating on the report in front of him, Gibbs felt his "Spidey-sense" alerting him. Glancing up, he found Tony and Ziva looking at him intently. McGee was staring at Tony; but, that wasn't so unusual.

Scowling at the younger agents, Gibbs leaned back and asked, "What?"

Smiling, Ziva replied, "How is your cousin, Agent Booth doing? Has he spoken to your uncle Hank?"

Gibbs gave her a questioning look as he cocked his head to the side, "I really wouldn't know. Is there anything else?"

Glancing across the aisle at Tony, Ziva looked back to her boss and replied, "No I believe that is what we wanted to know."

Shaking his head, Gibbs frowned, "You know, if you have time to waste on my personal life, I can definitely find something for you to do."

Turning back to their computer monitors, Tony and McGee returned their attention to reports that needed to be completed. Ziva curious, asked, "Has Agent Booth heard about what the fate of the Van Pelts will be yet?"

Nodding his head, Gibbs answered, "Yeah, we heard back from the Chesapeake D.A. yesterday. They decided to cut a plea bargain with Mary and Tricia Van Pelt. The women will plead guilty to improper disposal of a body and obstruction of justice and in return they'll be given probation. The D.A. agreed to accept that Perry Van Pelt's death was an accident so that part of the case is closed. Even if the D.A. wanted to make a case, he wouldn't be able to carry it very far. Ryan is really too young to be tried for anything and the shrinks that examined him, his mother and grandmother agreed that it would be detrimental to remove him from his home. Especially now that Perry is no longer part of the family. Part of the deal for all of them is therapy."

Gibbs took a deep breath and his shoulders relaxed, he looked directly at Ziva. "It's the best that could have happened in this case. maybe they can break the cycle of violence in that family. Hopefully something good can come out of this whole mess. The victim in this whole thing was Ryan Van Pelt. It's a sad way to get the help, but maybe this will be what can turn all of them around."

Shaking his head, Tony replied, "Hopefully with his uncle out of the picture the boy will have a chance to have a normal childhood from here on out."

Grimacing the older agent gave a sigh and replied, "Whatever normal means."

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Gibbs found Booth sitting at a table toward the back of the diner. As he raised his hand and gave a quick head nod to acknowledge the younger man, he noticed that his cousin had the charts with him.

Sitting down across the table, the older agent smiled, "So you met with Hank? How did it go?"

Picking up the cylinder and handing it across the table, Booth responded, "It was an interesting conversation." Booth chuckled. "Let's just say he was a tad resistant at first but as we talked and I showed him the information you'd dug up, he seemed to come around to understanding that his father's death was an accident." Booth shook his head, "I know he needs some time to really think this through or" Booth chortled, "as he says to 'cogitate' on the new information he's been given."

Gibbs laughed in response to the comment as Booth continued, "I think that he's ready to bury the hatchet with your Dad. I think he's just a little unsure of how Jackson is going to respond. It makes sense really. They've had this on-going feud for so many years and while he won't hesitate to tell others what they need to do differently in their lives, like most of us, he's always hesitant to change his ways." Booth shook his head. "Why is it always easier to see that in others than in ourselves, huh?"

Gibbs leaned back in his chair and giving a low laugh, nodded his head. "Really, Booth? I've always jumped at the chance to make amends or admit that I may have misinterpreted some information, haven't you?"

Booth sniggered, "Oh yeah. Right. Just ask Bones! She'll tell you just how good I am at that!" The two men smiled across the table at each other. Booth went on, "I think Pops is game to try; but, he doesn't really have any hope that anything is going to come of it."

Taking the cardboard cylinder and moving it on to his side of the table, the older agent shrugged his shoulders, "So this is going to be up to us. We have to get them together."

Nodding his head, Booth picked up his cup of coffee. Taking a sip, he placed the cup down and pointed to the tube, "I was thinking about that. What do you think about you going to see your Dad and and show him what you found. Kind of set the stage for what comes next."

Curious, Gibbs asked, "And what comes next?"

Leaning back in his chair, Booth laid his arm across the back of the chair next to him, "I'm not sure, really, but I think that the best chance we have of actually getting them together is if we somehow arrange for them to meet by accident.

Smiling, he continued, "Every year, on Memorial Day, Pops and I pack up a little picnic lunch, peanut butter sandwiches and cokes and we go over to Arlington National Cemetery to visit the grave of one of his friends, James Rawlings. Rawlings was killed during World War II. He and Pops were ambushed by some infiltrators during the Battle of the Bulge. Pops was seriously hurt and Rawlings died before help arrived. I don't know if you know his history, but, Pops lied about his age to get into the Army. He was only seventeen when he enlisted in 1944. He says that he looked older than he was and back then not everyone had birth certificates." Booth paused and gave a thoughtful look. "Of course by '44 all of the branches were willing to take just about anyone willing to sign up. His recruiter probably knew Pops was underage, but if he was willing to sign then they were willing to take him! Anyway, he took an aptitude test and they made a military policeman out of him. He and Rawlings were ambushed in December of that year. Pops had only been in the Army for eight months. He took the death of his friend kind of hard. He had to watch his friend die and there wasn't a thing he could do to help him. Pops says that Rawlings made him promise to visit him at least once a year and to eat peanut butter sandwiches and drink cokes in his honor. We've been doing that since I went to live with him and Gram. My Dad had his own tradition and visited Westminster Cemetery in Bala Cynwyd. Is there a chance you can get your father to come out to Arlington on Memorial Day?"

Clasping his hands together on the table in front of him, Gibbs stared at his hands, "Well, my mother's brother, Harry is buried at Arlington; so, I might be able to talk him into it. Every Memorial Day he usually drives over to Twins Hills Memorial Park in Muncy. He has some friends and a cousin buried there. I might be able to get him to come to D.C. to visit Uncle Harry's grave; but, for that to happen I need to talk to him soon. I'd have to see if he's up to driving here or if I need to go and get him. First though, I will want him to see the charts and records and let him know that it wasn't his or anyone else's fault that their Dad died."

Nodding his head, Booth smiled, "Sounds like a plan. Since Pops already knows that we plan to try to get them together then the only sticking point we have is your Dad. If you can't get him to come to Arlington then we'll just come up with another plan. Right now this whole thing hinges on your power of persuasion."

Chuckling, Gibbs leaned back in his seat, "So no pressure, eh? I'll just explain to my Dad that his father died in an accident and then find a way to get him to come to Arlington on Memorial Day. Yeah, piece of cake. Shouldn't be a problem."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth smiled, "Hey, I did my part and I got Pops to agree to bury the hatchet with his brother. I can't do everything."

Shaking his head, Gibbs smiled at his cousin, "Apparently your grandfather isn't as stubborn as my old man."

Guffawing, Booth leaned forward and placed his hands on the table in front of him, "Jethro, that is probably the funniest thing you've said to me since we've met. Pops could teach mules classes in stubbornness."

Sighing, Gibbs grimaced, "Well I guess we belong to the same club then because if you looked up the word obstinate in the dictionary you'd find a picture of my father."

Impressed, Booth whistled. "Wow. I understand, Jethro and believe me I feel your pain."

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If you would like to read about the Booth Memorial Day traditions then I invite you to read Penny's story "Last Monday in May" (you can find it here: fanfiction dot net / s / 8157213 / 1 / Last-Monday-in-May) or my story "Memories" (you can find it here: fanfiction dot net / s / 8152910 / 1 / Memories) Since Fan Fiction dot net strips out URLs (yes even their own!) you will have to remove the spaces before going to these links (or copy and paste the story number in place of Castor and Pollux story number above).


	23. Chapter 23

We don't own Bones or NCIS. We have no input with either HH or Bellisario. We wish we did. Sigh.

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It was a fairly uneventful drive to Stillwater. He'd run into traffic getting out of the District, but once he hit the B-W parkway, traffic was pretty clear. Rounding Baltimore on the west side, he made a quick pit stop and picked up a refill for his coffee. He cranked up the music on the CD player and sang along to the 60's oldies blaring from the speakers. When he got to Weisner State Forest he knew that he had about the slowest part of the journey ahead of him. There was very little traffic but the road from 81 up to Stillwater was a typical backwater road. With the windows down, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he took a deep breath of the country air.

Gibbs always felt conflicted coming back to Stillwater. Although the relationship with his father had been improving, he was still a little tentative about how his father was going to respond to meeting his brother after all these years. Completing the four hour drive in a little over three and a half, Gibbs made one last pit stop on the outskirts of town, then headed over to father's general store. He realized as he approached the store that he was looking for any evidence of the attack just a couple of years previous. Pushing open the wood and glass door, he glanced up at the old fashioned bell that still tinkled overhead. He called out, "Hey Old Man! How're you doing? Are you ever going to retire, Dad? I thought you were going to sell the place."

Looking up from the case of beans he was pricing, Jackson frowned, "Why would I do that? It keeps me busy." He grinned and his eyes lit up as he looked at his son, "And it keeps me off the streets. What do you want me to do, take up crocheting?"

Giving a low chuckle, Gibbs responded, "It was just a question, Dad, just a question. I'd think you'd be ready to leave all this behind and get some fishing in."

Pursing his lips, Jackson asked, "What are you doing here? Did I know you were driving up today? I don't remember us talking about you heading up here. Is something wrong? Did something happen?"

Shaking his head, the younger man turned as the bell over the front door tinkled and a customer entered the store, "Nope, no problem, Dad. I just thought I'd come visit you for a day or so."

Suspicious, Jackson replied, "Uh, huh."

Nodding at the older woman who seemed to be looking for something in the auto accessories, the younger man asked, "Do you need some help here, Ma'am? Can I help you find something?"

Startled the woman looked up at the younger man. Blue eyes twinkling, she smiled and said, "Oh, no. I'm fine. Jackson can help me when he's not busy. I'll be fine, you just go ahead and get whatever it is you need young man. Am I in your way?"

Gibbs smiled back, "No ma'am. I was just stopping by to say hello. I'll let Jackson take care of you." He tipped his head in her direction and turned back toward the front door of the shop.

"I'm going on over to the Creekside Family Restaurant in Orangeville, Dad. I'll meet you at the house later. Want me to pick you up anything?"

Shaking his head, Jackson responded, "No thanks. I've got a dinner date tonight. I'll be home around eight."

Waving his hand, Gibbs left the store and walked back to his car. Observing someone walk by that looked vaguely familiar, he raised his hand and smiled. The pedestrian, recognizing Gibbs, called out, "Nice to see you Jethro" and kept walking.

Frowning, Gibbs shrugged his shoulders, got into his car and slowly pulled out onto the road.

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Moving the coffee cups and ice cream dishes to the side, Gibbs placed the cardboard tube on the tabletop. "Dad, I did have a reason for making the trip." Holding his hand up to stop his father from whatever retort he was preparing, Gibbs continued, "I did a little research, Dad. I know this isn't a topic you like to discuss, but I have some new information and I want to talk to you about the boating accident you were in as a boy, the one that caused the death of your father."

Frowning Jackson shook his head, "Jethro, please. I really would rather not talk about that anymore. I'm old and that story just makes me sad. A boy shouldn't lose his father like that."

Nodding his head, Gibbs pulled the top off of the tube and pulled out the charts. Biting his lower lip, Gibbs responded, "I know it's a painful topic, Dad. I think I can prove that the boating accident really was an accident."

His interested piqued, Jackson responded, "Oh, and just how do you think that you are going to be able to prove that after 70 years? You have some kind of a time machine that I don't know about?"

Smiling slightly, the younger man shook his head, "No, Dad, but I might have the next best thing. I did some research like I said. It's amazing what you can get through the internet these days. Anyways, I was able to find some charts that I'd like to show you." Moving the top chart around so that his father could see it, Gibbs pointed at the small red x inked on the chart. " You recognize this Dad? It's the Upper Chesapeake Bay. See here's Aberdeen, Havre de Grace and Perryville right across the river where the Susquehanna comes in. This is a chart that you all would have had on the boat the week you guys went out on the Bay. The red x on the chart is where your wreck happened. The chart shows that it was considered open water and it should have allowed safe passage."

Peering at the chart, Jackson frowned, "Yeah, I remember the chart, son. Believe me, I remember the chart."

Pulling out a second chart from underneath and laying it on top, "Okay, this chart was printed the year after your accident. If you'll look where your accident occurred it shows an underwater obstruction. What you didn't know, what your father didn't know was that a 30' sail boat sank in that area a week before you guys went out on the water. You can see from the depth of the water and the size of the sail boat that sank that the boat's mast would have been just below the water. When you drove the boat over that area the bottom of your boat must have been holed by the mast. I'm pretty sure that this is what caused the wreck of your boat. This is what caused your boat to sink. I needed you to see that you didn't do anything wrong. The death of your father was caused by a real accident and it wasn't anything you did wrong. Dad, it wasn't your fault."

Surprised at the new information, Jackson studied both charts, moving his index finger over each chart, studying the route he remembered taking from the marina that morning. Finally satisfied, he looked at his son, "I'll be damned."

Studying his father, Gibbs saw the war of emotions playing across the older man's face. He realized that even though this didn't change the past it did change something in his father.

Jackson, patting the charts, reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. Wiping a tear from his face, he looked at his son, "You're sure these are accurate, Jethro?" Raising his eyes to look at his son's nod, he shook his head as he continued. "That's . . . that's . . . that's a lot to process, son, I . . ." giving a deep sight, he sat back in his chair. "Thank God, Jethro, all of these years I was so certain that I'd done something to cause the death of my father and now I find out that it wasn't my fault after all. Thank God." Wiping another tear from his face, Jackson smiled at his son, "Thank you. Thank you for showing me this."

Smiling, Gibbs reached over and patted his father's hand. "I wish I'd looked into this sooner, Dad."

Shaking his head, Jackson cleared his throat, "No, no that's okay. I never thought about researching it either. I just assumed that I caused the accident. I know Hank thought it was my fault and I didn't have any reason to believe otherwise." Staring at the charts, he asked, "What made you research this now?"

Watching his father rub his finger against the site of the wreck on the chart, Gibbs replied, "I had a case come up at work. You remember that I told you about it. I wound up working with FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth."

Looking up, Jackson frowned, "Seeley Booth as in Hank's grandson, Seeley? That Seeley Booth?"

Nodding his head, Gibbs smiled, "Dad. Do you really think there could be more that one Seeley Booth in this world? He chuckled. "Yes, Dad, that Seeley Booth. While we were working on the case we talked about family. We talked about his Dad and Mom and we talked about you and Hank. We both had heard a little bit about the wreck but we'd only heard one side of the story. We had a lot of time to talk on our drives to and from Chesapeake while we were working the case. Anyway, I put some of the information he gave me together with what I knew. Something just didn't quite add up. I decided to look into it and that's when I found out about the wreck of the sail boat."

Curious, Gibbs father asked, "How did you and Seeley get along?"

Smiling, Gibbs responded, "At first not so well. His Dad had been a bit less than truthful with him about some stuff and it was a little dicey at first; but, we were able to talk it over and get everything straightened out. He's a pretty good egg. He's head of Major Crimes for the FBI in the District area. He lives with the author Temperance Brennan." Catching the surprised look on Jackson's face, Gibbs smiled, "I thought you would know who that is. I've seen her books around here so I know you know who I'm talking about."

Jackson chuckled, "No kidding. I love Temperance Brennan's books. So you mean my grand nephew is married to her? Wow!"

Shaking his head, Gibbs replied, "Nah, they aren't married. Apparently she doesn't believe in marriage; but, they are living together. They have a daughter named Christine. Seeley also has a son from a previous relationship, Parker. I've not met him yet but Christine is a little heartbreaker. It'll be fun to watch him as she grows up! Seeley's a nice guy, Dad. A nice guy and a good agent."

Smiling, Jackson leaned over and patted his son's shoulder, "That's great, son. I mean it. I've been kind of worrying about you lately. I mean when I'm gone you aren't going to have any family left. Now that I see that you're in contact with Seeley then I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore. You'll have some family when I'm gone."

Reaching for the charts, Gibbs pulled them closer to him and started rolling them up. "Dad, do you think you'd like to talk to Hank Booth about this new information? This might be a chance for the two of you to finally make up."

Shaking his head, Jackson replied, "No, Jethro. It's too late. We're old and I just can't see Hank letting go of that hate he has for me. Not after seventy years. Let's just let it alone. You let me off the hook by letting me know I didn't kill my father and I'll always be grateful for that son, really; but, Hank and me? We are never going to get together, not after all this time."

Sighing, Gibbs slipped the charts into the tube, "Don't you want to try? At least call him and tell him about the charts. I'll bet he'd like to know about it."

Shaking his head again, Jackson replied, "No, I don't want to try. Why break my heart all over again?"

Placing the charts aside, Gibbs responded, "Dad, look, what if I told you that Seeley told Hank about the accident and he accepts that you weren't at fault?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Jackson glanced at the table, "It's too late for us, Jethro. It's been too long. I don't want to reopen old wounds. Just let it go, please?"

Sighing, Gibbs stared at the ceiling, "Okay Dad. If that's what you want. "Glancing back at this father, Gibbs asked, "Hey, what do you have planned for Memorial Day? I thought you and I could visit Uncle Harry at Arlington this year. I'm the only one who ever visits him and I think it would be nice if you came with me this year. It's been awhile since you've been down to see me. Besides, it would give you a chance to get away from the store. Get a little taste of what retirement might be like. What do you say?

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	24. Chapter 24

Thank you for reading and supporting our story. It makes us happy that you have found it entertaining.

To those who have served our country, Thank You.

We don't own Bones or NCIS.

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Stirring his coffee, Booth lifted his eyes from the cup in front of him and smiled at the man across the table, "So he agreed to come down for the holiday, huh? That's great. I guess your old man isn't as stubborn as you thought he was."

Smirking, Gibbs guffawed, "You have no idea how much contorting I had to do to get him to agree to come to D.C. for Memorial Day. He has his own traditions when it comes to Memorial Day and it was like beating a dead horse to make him change his plans."

Puzzled, Brennan looked at the man sitting across the table from her and asked, "Dead horse? Why would you want to beat a dead horse?"

Not missing a beat, Booth turned to the woman sitting next to him, "It means his father is extremely stubborn, Bones."

Having become familiar with Temperance's literal interpretation of idioms, Gibbs nodded his head and explained further, "My father is probably the most stubborn man you'll ever meet. I've never met anyone like him."

Laughing, Brennan shook her head, "That's very funny. I . . ." Stopping at the puzzled look on Gibb's face, Brennan frowned, "Oh you were serious. You . . ."

Shaking his head, Gibbs responded, "I don't think I understand. . ."

Holding up his hand, Booth tried to interrupt his cousin, "Jethro you don't . . ."

Interrupting Booth, Brennan explained, "From what I've observed, obstinacy clearly is a family trait. I. . ."

Smiling, Booth reached over and squeezed Brennan's knee, "Yes, we've got it, pot and kettle." He chuckled at the confused look on her face and explained further, "Jethro was the pot calling the kettle black."

Puzzled, Brennan looked between the two men and replied, "I don't know what that means."

Laughing, Gibbs picked up his mug and raised it in Booth's direction before taking a sip. "I can see how you would think that Temperance. Other than my Dad, I don't know that I've ever seen anyone quite as stubborn as Seeley here."

Booth gave Gibbs a look of incredulity, "Really? That's how you want to play this? I seem to recall a recent sporting event in which . . . "

Gibbs shook his head, "Oh, you're going to go there? You know that I've always been a University of Michigan fan. I can't help it if . . ."

With a smile on his face, Booth held up his hands in surrender, "Okay, Jethro, Okay. Let's just say the sun has set and we can call it a day. We'll agree to disagree with being disagreeable."

Brennan smiled at the banter between the two men, "So what part do a pot and a kettle play in this whole scenario?"

Booth chuckled and looked at his cousin then back at his partner, "It means you were right, Bones. It means you were right."

With what might have been mistaken for a look of smugness if someone hadn't seen the quirk of a smile at the edge of her mouth, Brennan replied, "I usually am." She nodded her head and picked up her glass and took a sip of tea.

Booth smiled at his partner, then turned his direction back across the table in an attempt to get the conversation back on track; "So, is your father going to drive down or are you going to go and get him?"

Placing his cup back on the table, Gibbs frowned, "Dad says the drive is too much for him. After doing the drive this past weekend, I really understand where he's coming from. He's used to a little slower pace on the roads and he's not comfortable driving in city traffic. Right now the plan is that I'll drive up to Stillwater the day before Memorial Day and bring him down here. It'll be a day of driving, but I only have him in the car with me in one direction, so it won't be quite as challenging." He grinned. "I guess we need to fix a time and a place to accidentally run into you guys at Arlington."

Nodding his head, Booth fiddled with his coffee, "Pops and I are usually there about 10 or so. The wreath laying at the Tomb is at 11:00; but we can avoid some of the traffic since they want people that will be attending the ceremony there no later than 9:30. We've gone to that a few times, but, Pops gets tired more easily these days and the crowd, the early arrival, the wait until the service starts, the whole thing is just too exhausting for him these days. We adjusted our schedule and head in the gate a little before ten and then we can just head right over to the section where James Rawlings is buried. Bones and Christine will be with us this year and Parker is supposed to be with us for the weekend and he'll be there too. A little larger group than usual." He grinned and glanced at the woman sitting next to him. He reached out and placed his hand over hers. "Bones and Parker both know the story and said they didn't want to miss the reunion."

Smiling, the older agent responded, "Yeah and the group will be even a little larger than that. Besides Dad, Abby Sciuto is going to join us. She's a friend of mine and she has been going to Arlington with me the last few years. She has a second cousin buried there; so, we visit Donny Sciuto and then we walk over and visit my Uncle Harry."

Curious, Brennan asked, "Isn't Abby the forensic specialist at Naval Criminal Investigative Service?"

Nodding his head, Gibbs answered, "Yeah, Abby and I have worked together for over ten years now. Our relationship is a little different than normal colleagues." Gibbs smiled at the skeptical look on Temperance's face, "Not like that, Temperance!" He took on a serious look as he continued, "She's come to be almost like a daughter to me although I would appreciate it if you didn't mention that to her. She's very sentimental and I don't want to add to it."

Brennan smiled back at the man across the table. She had the realization that she was not only becoming fond of Jethro, but how grateful she was for the relationship that was building between the two men with whom she was sharing the table.

Booth stared out of the window next to the table and sighed, "I guess I'm going to have to make a lot more peanut butter sandwiches this year. James Rawlings is going to be pretty happy to have so many visitors."

Holding up his hand, Gibbs shook his head, "I don't want to interfere with your Memorial Day tradition, Booth. We can leave before you have your little picnic or we can arrive a little later, if that works better."

Shaking his head, Booth frowned, "No way, Jethro. If your father hasn't killed Pops by then or vice versa, then we'll have our little picnic for James. Pops said James loved people so I'm pretty sure he'd love the additional company."

Concerned, Brennan looked questionably at Booth and asked, "You do remember that James Rawlings is dead don't you? He's not there. It's just bones."

Booth rolled his eyes and smiled, "Yes, Bones. He's dead. That doesn't mean he isn't looking down from heaven and watching us."

Frowning, Brennan responded, "Yes it does. He's dead."

Puzzled, Gibbs asked Brennan, "Clearly you don't believe in the after-life, why are you going go to the cemetery to visit Hank's friend?"

Sipping her tea, Brennan answered, "I'm not going to Arlington to visit James. I am going so that I may pay proper respects to a fallen soldier and because it is important to Booth. I am also doing it to honor Booth's beliefs and his dedication to fallen soldiers. He deserves my respect and my support even though I don't believe in an after-life or heaven or hell. Booth believes so I will be there to support him."

Nodding his head, Gibbs smiled, "Good answer."

Leaning over and kissing her cheek, Booth smiled, "Bones is one in a million, Jethro. I'm a lucky man."

Winking at Booth, Gibbs responded, "You sure are."

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Gibbs looked around as he walked into the Lab and found Abby sitting at her desk, scanning something on her laptop. Gibbs made a slight detour and turned the volume lower on the stereo before making his way over to her desk. "Abs, I don't know how you can listen to that stuff and not bleed out of your ears."

Smiling, Abby looked up from her monitor, "Gee, Gibbs that's Alice Cooper. You can't tell me that you've never heard of him before. He's four years older than you are."

Sighing, Gibbs ignored the comment and asked, "I wanted to give you a head's up about our trip to Arlington this year. I'm heading up to Stillwater the Friday before and I'm bringing Dad down to stay with me for the weekend. It'll probably be for a few days into the week following so he'll be going with us."

Abby grinned, "That's great, Gibbs! I can't wait to see Jackson again. Does he know that I'll be going with you to the cemetery?

"Not yet," Gibbs nodded his head as he replied, "But that's a good idea to let him know." At her questioning look, he continued, "So I think that I shared with you that the FBI agent that we worked the Van Pelt case with is my cousin, right?"

"Agent Booth, right?" Abby smiled. "Yes, I think that's great. I really liked him and his partner, Dr. Brennan was way cool. The equipment that they have . . ." Seeing the smirk on Gibbs face, she stopped, "What? Oh, You were going to tell me something else, right?"

"Yeah," Gibbs answered, "Jackson and Seeley's grandfather Hank are brothers. Twins actually. They haven't seen each other for nearly 70 years. We're going to accidentally run into them at the cemetery and try to resolve this feud they both seem so invested in maintaining. It's entirely possible that we may ignite Armageddon at Arlington on Memorial Day."

"Is that why you had me do the research on those old charts from the USGS a few weeks ago, Gibbs?" Noting his nod of agreement, she continued, "I didn't know those had anything to do with Jackson and his brother. That is way cool. I'm in! I wouldn't miss this for anything. Count me in, I'll be there.

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Thank you for reading our story. It's starting to wind down. We only have two more chapters to go. Please let us know what you think of our story. We really want to know what you think of it.

A/N: The pot calling the kettle black: the pot is mocking the kettle for a little soot when the pot is thoroughly covered in the same.

Armageddon: the site or time of a final and conclusive battle between the forces of good and evil. The battle will take place at Armageddon. It's mentioned in the Bible, New Testament in the revelation to John. Some scholars think the battle will occur in Jerusalem at the end of history.

Beating a dead horse: this is an idiom that means: someone tries to convince someone to do or feel something without hope of success. Beating a dead horse will not make it do any more work.


	25. Chapter 25

Thank you so much for your kind reviews. We really have been thrilled to see such nice reviews for our story.

Penny and I are both the proud daughters of Veterans. My father served in the Korean Conflict and Vietnam and Penny's father served in the 41st Infantry Division in the Pacific during World War II. We are releasing this story today in honor of all the brave men and women who have served during time of war as well as peace time. Thank you for your sacrifice.

We don't own Bones or NCIS. We did borrow it for awhile and we hope you've had fun with our crossover story.

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Helping his grandfather off the path and towards the oak tree near James Rawlings grave, Booth smiled, "We're lucky that James' grave is this close to the oak tree. It's pretty warm today."

Rolling his eyes, Hank Booth responded, "You say that every year, Seeley. You'd think this was Iraq the way you go on about how hot it is."

Glancing back at Parker, Booth set down the small cooler he carried, "Parker, if you could set up the lawn chairs under the tree, I'd appreciate it. Bones, there's a fairly flat area for the blanket for you and Christine. We're lucky this oak tree is so big. The shade is pretty deep."

Everyone carried out their assignments, Booth and Hank waited until Parker finished setting up the chair and when it was open and leveled, Booth helped his grandfather over and tried to help him get settled.

Brushing off his grandson's arm, Hank grumbled, "Alright, alright, I'm not helpless yet. I can sit in a chair without your help."

Stepping back, Booth watched his grandfather get comfortable in the chair. Making sure that the chair was steady, Booth turned and looked at the neat row of nearby tombstones. The American flags, planted in front of each stone were flapping in the gentle wind. Overcome by the emotions he always felt in the setting, Booth glanced at Brennan,

"Okay, I'm going to go over and check on Teddy. I see Claire is already here. I want to go over and say hello."

Nodding her head, Brennan sat on the blanket and made sure that Christine's bonnet was covering her head properly. Her daughter had been fussy earlier and kept pulling it off of her head. Parker stood next to Hank's chair and read the names on the tombstones in front of them. Finally seeing James's gravestone, Parker pointed , "I see Corporal Rawlings grave. It's between to Cyril Feight and Daniel Snyder."

Looking at his friend's stone, Hank smiled, "Yeah, that's the one. That James was a real character. You'd have liked him Parker. He had a great sense of humor and made friends with everyone he met. I'm sure if he'd have lived he would have eventually gone into politics. He really wanted to change the world."

Curious, Parker asked, "How come no else is here is to visit with Corporal Rawlings?"

Hank gave his great-grandson a solemn look as he replied, "James didn't have any family when he died, Parker. All he has is me and Seeley. That's the way it is with a lot of these fine soldiers buried here, Son. World War II was a long time ago and a lot the families have died out or they're not living in the area. Some are just too old to visit. It's a shame really; but, James has me until I pass and Seeley has promised me that he'll keep up the tradition of visiting when I'm gone."

Concerned, Parker placed his hand on his great-grandfather's arm, "Don't worry, Pops, I'll help Dad with the tradition. I promised him that I'd visit Teddy Parker once a year; so, I can visit your Corporal Rawlings too."

Patting Parker's hand, Hank smiled, "Thank you, Parker, you're a good boy. I appreciate your promise. It takes a weight off of my mind."

Looking around, Parker spied his father walking back towards them. Seeing someone approaching along the path they'd just walked, Parker felt his jaw drop, "Oh my goodness, Pops! Look at that. If you weren't sitting here next to me, I would think that was you walking with those people over there. He looks just like you! Do you know him? Who do you think he is?"

Curious, Pops looked around to see where Parker was staring and saw his brother, a younger man and an even younger woman approaching the oak tree. Hank turned and looked at the young woman and child sitting under the tree. He inhaled deeply as he turned back to the group moving in their direction. "Okay, Tempe, it looks like our company is here. Now I hope this goes well, but if it doesn't then I don't want you or Seeley getting upset. It's going to be what it's going to be."

Standing, Brennan held Christine in her arms and watched the trio get closer. Booth, spying his cousin, grand-uncle and Abby, jogged over to the shade tree. Arriving next to Hank, Booth sighed, "Okay, Pops, it's show time."

Gibbs, grimaced and shrugged his shoulders at his cousin and the others standing next to the oak tree. He started moving off of the path and gently steered his father towards the others. Abby, aware of what was coming up, held back and watched with trepidation as Gibbs and his father approached the group.

Noticing the small crowd in front of him, Jackson turned and commented to his son, "Looks like we may have company, Jethro."

Sighing, Gibbs smiled nervously, "Yep. Dad, looks like we do."

As they got closer to the oak tree, Jackson realized that the older gentleman, standing with the help of a cane, had a very familiar face. Stopping, Jackson pursed his lips, "Jethro, what the hell did you do?"

Rubbing his forehead, Gibbs responded, "I wanted to give you the chance to talk to your brother one more time before it's too late. Please give it a chance, Dad, for me."

Exhaling sharply, Jackson glared at his son, "We're going to talk about you interfering in my life later."

Nodding his head, Gibbs bit his lower lip. Under his breath, he muttered, "I'm sure we will."

Stepping closer to his brother, Jackson tried to school his features into an unemotional mask. Hank, seeing the blank look on his brother's face, nodded his head, "Hello, Jackson."

Stopping a few feet from his brother, Jackson nodded his head, "Hank."

Shrugging his shoulders, Hank stepped closer to his brother, "I'm just going to say it, I'm sorry Jackson. I really am. Seeley showed me some charts a few weeks ago and I know that Jethro has shown them to you. I didn't know. I should have checked into the accident along time ago and I didn't. I'm sorry for that and I'm sorry for blaming you all these years for something you didn't do."

Surprised, Jackson nodded his head, "Thanks Hank. I can't let it all be on you though. I should have looked into the wreck. I just assumed the same thing you did. I thought I killed Dad."

Glancing down and then back up toward his brother, Hank continued, "Yeah, well, I'm sorry about that too. I should never have blamed you for Dad's death to begin with. He didn't die because of the boat accident. He died because we didn't have enough life vests on the boat. I can't blame you for that and I shouldn't have in the first place. I was just so . . . I was . . . Anyways, I'm sorry. What I did was wrong."

Suddenly moving closer to his brother, Jackson put his arms around Hank and hugged him, "Thank you Hank. You don't know how times I've wanted to talk to you over the years. I've missed having you in my life; but, I knew you hated me and I was afraid you were still mad and would reject me."

Patting his brother's back, Hank nodded his head, "Yeah, fact is, I probably would have. Seeley tells me I'm stubborn as a mule and I guess there are times when I am." He chuckled, "I can't blame you though. I was a real ass and I'm sorry for that."

Releasing his brother, Jackson wiped his hand across his eyes, "So, is this your family? How about you introduce me to these fine people."

Turning, Hank pointed at Booth, "That big one there is my grandson, Seeley. I'm sure you've been hearing about him from Jethro there, since they've been working together."

Jackson nodded at Hank continued, "This handsome youngster is Seeley's son, Parker. You may recognize the beautiful woman with the baby. She is a very well known author. This is Temperance Brennan, Seeley's girlfriend and that beautiful child she is holding is their daughter Christine."

Smiling Jackson waved his hand a little, "It's nice meeting you folks." Turning, Jackson stared at Gibbs and Abby, "So, I guess you know my son Jethro and his foster daughter, Abby."

Hurumphing, Gibbs responded, "Abby is not my foster daughter. She's a friend, Dad, a colleague."

Smirking, Jackson turned back to his brother, "Yeah, okay, if you say so. So, Hank, who are you visiting here?"

Turning and pointing to James Rawlings grave, Hank replied, "My buddy, James Rawlings. He died during the Battle of the Bulge. We were military policemen together in France and Germany."

Nodding his head, Jackson smiled, "Yeah, I lied about my age to get into the Army Air Corps. I flew a P-51. I did escort duty for bombers over Germany."

Impressed, Hank whistled, "Wow, I hate flying. You couldn't get me in a plane with a gun to my head."

Shrugging his shoulders, Jackson remarked, "I love planes. I don't fly anymore; but, when I was younger, I loved to get up in the air."

Booth, moved over to where the older men were talking, "I don't want to interrupt you two but I wanted to let you know that there are a couple of lawn chairs under the tree if you want to get out of the sun."

Rolling his eyes, Hank laughed, "My grandson has an obsession about the sun and shade trees. God forbid I stand in the sun too long. Actually," he glanced at the people around them and over at Jackson. "Would you like to take a short walk, Jackson? We could chat a bit without an audience." Sensing that his grandson was going to give an argument he gave Booth a stern look, "Don't you start on me young man. There are some things old soldiers need to say to each other and we don't need an audience."

Brennan reached over and placed a hand on Booth's arm. "Let them have their time, Booth. It will be what it will be and we are nearby if either of them needs our assistance." She smiled at the anxious man standing beside her.

"Okay, Pops; but, if either of you need anything . . . Anything, you let me know and Jethro or I will be right there." Booth couldn't keep the concern out of his voice.

Nodding at the group gathered under the tree the two men turned toward the path taking them over toward the next section of the cemetery.

Gibbs and Booth moved a ways down the path behind the two men then stood and watched as their heads bent towards each other, the two older men made their way amongst the tombstones of the fallen heroes with whom each had served.

"Well, that went a bit better than I expected." Gibbs looked at the younger man standing next to him as he wiped his cheek.

Booth cleared his throat and looked off in the other direction. "Yeah, but the day isn't over yet, is it?" He looked back at the man next to him and smiled, "I think we did well. Of course you know we are still going to catch hell for this when they have us alone, don't you? Well, maybe just you. I might be safe since I did warn Pops I'd try this."

Gibbs smiled, "Oh yeah."

Suddenly Gibbs gave a start. "Booth do you see that guy over there?" He motioned toward a man about Booth's age standing behind the two older men walking and talking on the pathway. "I think I saw him outside of Dad's store when I was there last week. He said hello to me and I thought at the time that he looked familiar, but . . ."

Booth looked in the direction Gibbs was indicating. "That fellow there?" Booth took in the dress of the man. He was wearing a pair of beige trousers and a white dress shirt. The sleeves were rolled up but there was a sense of formality about it all. He wore a straw fedora with a side dented crown with the front of the brim snapped down and the back snapped up. "He's a little oddly dressed, isn't he?" Booth asked, "He almost looks like . . . " He glanced over at this cousin. "Jethro he looks like the man in the picture that Pops has in his bedroom of Jackson and him when they were boys." He swallowed hard. "With their Dad."

Jethro looked from the man standing on the side of the path watching the older men. "I think I know that picture you're talking about. Dad has the same picture hanging in the back hallway of his store. Near the pictures of Kelly and Shannon." He turned to look at his cousin. "You don't think . . ."

Booth took a step towards the stranger as the man turned and appeared to take in the small family gathering under the oak tree. Smiling at the two men standing off by themselves, he reached up and tipped his hat at the two men then turned and walked in the opposite direction from the two veterans making their way among the tombstones. As the cousins watched from near the oak tree, the man seemed to fade away.

Gibbs swallowed hard then nearly inaudibly uttered, "Tell me you saw that Booth."

Booth stared at where he had last seen the stranger and replied, "Only if you don't tell anyone about it, ever."

Taking a deep breath, Gibbs turned and moved back toward the group under the tree. "Deal!"

Booth echoing his cousin's sentiments, replied, "Deal it is." Moving back under the tree, he clapped his hands, "We have peanut butter sandwiches and cokes too. It's a family tradition."

Smiling, Abby responded, "Sounds like a very nice tradition."

Puzzled by Booth and Gibb's nervous demeanor, Brennan moved to stand next to Booth, "Is something wrong?"

Rubbing the side of his head, Booth placed his arm around Brennan, "Not at all. Did I tell you that I love you today?"

Smiling, Brennan leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, "You know you did. I'm glad Hank and Jackson buried the past."

Staring back to where the stranger had faded away, Booth smiled, "Yeah, the past should stay in the past."

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One more chapter to go. We hope you will take the time to let us know what you think of our story. Thank you. The last chapter will be released on Friday.

A/N: Congratulations daisesnfaffidols, you were the only one to mention the man Jethro met outside his father's store. You were right about his importance.


	26. Chapter 26

We don't own Bones or NCIS. We borrowed them and had a little fun combining both worlds. We hope we entertained you. This is the final chapter.

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Sitting in a back booth of Bob and Edith's Diner, just down the road from the back gate of Arlington National Cemetery, Booth studied the menu while Gibbs watched his father and uncle in a booth at the other end of the refurbished railroad car. The two men seemed to be engrossed in their conversation with with each other.

Parker, scanned the menu, then looked up and blurted out, "Dad, did you see that they have scrapple? I wonder if it's any good here."

Looking at the menu, Booth asked, "When Charlie recommended this place, he said that everything on the menu is good. I guess we'll see, huh? Where did you see the scrapple?"

Pointing at his menu, Parker replied, " See, it's here under Breakfast side orders."

Smiling, Booth grinned, "Hey, you're right. You don't really want anything to eat do you? You just had a peanut butter sandwich and a coke an hour ago."

Shrugging his shoulders, Parker smiled, "I'm still hungry, Dad."

Glancing at Brennan, Booth asked, "Do you want to eat some lunch here, Bones? I mean, Parker is right, one peanut butter sandwich isn't really lunch."

Helping Christine drink some water, Brennan cautiously held the glass and smiled at the young man sitting at the end of the table. "Parker does have a big appetite and it was just a sandwich. If you are going to order something then I'll have a garden salad."

Nodding his head, Booth studied the menu, "I can order an egg sandwich for Christine. I'll finish what she doesn't eat."

Abby, looked up from studying the menu, looked over at Gibbs and asked, "What do you think they're talking about?"

Studying his father's face, Gibbs shrugged his shoulders, "God knows. They haven't talked to each other for seventy years so they have plenty of catching up. They're probably talking about the past."

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Glancing at his son, Jackson turned his gaze back to his brother, "Our boys think they're so smart. They're probably over there giving each other pats on the back for getting us together."

Chuckling, Hank sipped his coffee, "Maybe they deserve to give each other a pat on the back. I'm pretty sure that they performed a miracle, don't you?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Jackson moved his coffee cup towards his lips, "Yeah, I do. Still they don't have to be so darn smug about it." Drinking his hot brew, Jackson put his cup back down. "You know, Hank, I kept track of you as best as I could through Uncle Henry. He talked to mother once a month and she'd pass on anything interesting he had heard about you. That worked fine until Mom died. After that it was a little more challenging. Then when Jethro looked up your son, Joseph in the 70's when he was stationed in Philadelphia I gather that they talked quite a bit and got each other caught up on family news. Jethro knew I was interested, so he passed on the family news to me. Of course, when he was transferred to South Korea they lost touch; so, it was hit and miss about the information I got then. I even subscribed to the Philadelphia Inquirer for a time."

Laughing, Hank shook his head, "I'll be damned. I subscribed to the paper out of Bloomsburg so I could keep track of you. You and your son were mentioned in the paper a few times. I wasn't anyone important so I can't imagine I was ever in the Philadelphia paper, well except when Marie died."

Shaking his head, Jackson responded, "Well, no, you were in there when you retired from the Philadelphia Police Department. Joseph was mentioned when he was awarded the purple heart in Vietnam and Seeley was mentioned for some of his high school sports and then I knew when he went into the Rangers and there was coverage when he was rescued from the Iraqi Republican Guard. I really wanted to reach out when I read about that, Hank. I felt quilty that we weren't in touch." Jackson looked down a the table.

"I don't know how you felt about it Hank," Jackson continued without looking up, "but, I cannot tell you how many times I started to reach for the phone and then decided against it, thinking that you'd just hang up when you knew it was me."

Reaching his hand across the table, Hank placed it on top of Jackson's hand, "I am so sorry, Jackson that I let my mule headedness keep us apart. I just . . . I just took Dad's death so hard and I needed someone to blame and you were it. It wasn't fair and I really am sorry."

Shaking his head, Jackson smiled, "You know, Hank, I think we just have to let it go. While I'm not sure we should let them know it just yet, I'm grateful to our boys for what they did. I'm not sure you noticed," Jackson's eyes twinkled as he glanced over at the table where the rest of the family sat nervously watching the two old veterans, "But I think they're just a tad nervous about our reaction."

Hank gave a low chuckle. "Yeah, I know they weren't sure how this would go. Hell, Jackson, I wasn't sure how it would go! What do you say we let them off the hook, eh?"

Jackson looked across the table at his brother. Trying to hold his emotions in check, he smiled, "Yeah, I was gonna suggest that we keep them in the dark for awhile, but you're right, Hank. What they did was a good thing. For us and for them. I'm grateful to have you back in my life. We have some catching up to do and they do as well. Let's get to it."

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Watching Hank pat Jackson's hand, Booth smiled, "I think we did well, Jethro. I think we did really well."

Glancing at the two older men sitting at the other end of the diner and reading their body language, Gibbs smiled, "We did. We sure did."

Abby watched as the waitress placed a plate before Booth and he poured maple syrup over his slice of scrapple then cut off a piece with a fork. "Isn't that meat?"

Placing the piece in his mouth, Booth answered around his mouthful, "Yep."

Puzzled, Abby had to ask, "Why did you put maple syrup on it? I mean, syrup and meat wouldn't be two combinations I'd think of."

Parker, laughed, pointed at his scrapple, "Pops says this isn't really meat since it has cornmeal in it."

Frowning, Abby asked, "It's meat and cornmeal."

Swallowing his forkful of porky delight, Booth responded, "Well, its cornmeal and onions and meat. The meat is the left over bits of the pig. You know, the parts they can't really sell in the stores."

Grimacing, Abby placed her hand over her mouth, "Yummy."

Laughing, Gibbs remarked, "Now, now, Abby. Don't be such a snob. Scrapple is the German version of Boudin. Scrapple is made with cornmeal and boudin is made with rice. It's still the left over bits of the pig. Besides, you eat Hog Heads cheese."

Puzzled, Abby asked, "What's wrong with Hog Heads cheese."

Shuddering, Booth shook his head, "You couldn't pay me to eat that stuff."

Shaking her head, Brennan remarked, "You have no idea how happy I am that I'm a vegetarian."

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Thank you for reading our story. We enjoyed collaborating on it. Now is your chance to tell us if you liked it or not. We are presently looking at another story idea and if we can find the time you may see another story from us this summer.


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